Don't Fear The Reaper
by She Who Cannot Be Turned
Summary: Harry defeated Voldemort at a cost. He eventually ends up in America, where, eight years after the defeat, he meets two brothers who fight the supernatural…. He certainly isn’t the one they are set to save either. Harry Potter crossover. Slash
1. Prologue

(Don't Fear) The Reaper

(Don't Fear) The Reaper

**Summary Harry defeated Voldemort at a cost. He eventually ends up in America, where, eight years after the defeat, he meets to brothers who fight the supernatural…. He certainly isn't the one they are set to save either. HP/SPNL crossover. Slash**

Prologue

**Diagon Alley. October 31****st**** 1998. **

Harry felt tears fall down his cheeks as he watched wizard after wizard fall down to their enemy. Both sides had suffered it's losses, and now the dark side was going to be dealt it's biggest loss. Harry had spent the last three years of his life training to defeat Voldemort. Since his fifteenth birthday and he made that deal. Since he turned fifteen and got taken to Grimmauld place. Since he began to be trained.

He finally found Voldemort, at the edge of the Battle of Diagon. If Harry was completely honest with himself, he would admit a bit of shock that the final battle wasn't held on the grounds of Hogwarts, like everyone had assumed. Of course, that would have been before Voldemort made his biggest mistake and killed Hermione. That sure pissed Harry off.

So here he was, striding through the fighting wizards, killing the occasional random Death Eater that tried to stop him. He didn't particularly like killing anyone, but he knew it was a necessity of war. Plus they were in his way and trying to kill him.

Finally he stood across from the fugly wizard known as Voldemort and smirked, Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Harry and drew his wand slowly.

"So Potter. Think you can finally defeat me?"

"I don't think. I know. I've been training and training for this, though in truth I was just preparing myself and setting things to right. You see I made a deal. A life for a life." Harry said, and drew out a small dagger that looked ceremonial.

"What is this Potter? You think a silly muggle weapon will be able to defeat me?" Voldemort said, before laughing and making Harry smile sadly.

"No. Not a muggle weapon. But this isn't muggle. You know, you would have probably had a chance to live a little longer if you hadn't killed Hermione. She was the only one I could talk to, and so the only one keeping me here. The only one telling me that there was another way. There isn't though. _Neither shall live while the other survives, _and in the end, neither really will survive."

"What are you talking about Potter?" Voldemort said, spitting out his name.

"What I'm saying is, Hermione was really the only one who knew my plan. She was the only one searching for another way to kill you off. Everyone else, Remus, Sirius, Dumbledore, they all tried to train me, but they all, deep down, knew that I wouldn't out live you." Harry said, looking at the dagger in his hands.

"What is that Potter?"

"This? This is a ceremonial dagger that I got from a mutual friend. Well actually I wouldn't say friend. All those years back, we both really pissed him off. He gave me this, and in using it, I would pay off some of my debt to him. I would be giving him your soul and mine." And with that confusing statement, Harry drew the knife quickly across both his wrists and watched in morbid curiosity as the blood dripped down his wrists and fell to the floor.

Voldemort stood and watched with a wide grin on his face as his main enemy in this war went and killed himself in front of everyone. The fighting stopped as everyone turned to look in horror as their saviour (or the guy they were fighting) slashed his wrists instead of killing Voldemort.)

"I knew you would fail us! Hermione told me that you were beginning to get some strange thoughts and that I was to keep an eye on you and keep your hopes up if she ever died before the war was finished. She never said anything against you, but I knew what she was trying to say. You have signed all of our death warrants with your selfishness!" Ron yelled, making everyone on the side of the Light look at Harry in disappointment. Harry looked at Ron and smiled serenely at him before turning his attention back, once more to Voldemort and speaking.

"I take unto me, the soul of my enemy. With my soul and his as one the debt that was owed shall be repaid. The wrong of seventeen years shall forever now be righted. Take my soul and his. Take them and let the debt be done." Harry said, holding his arms out to his sides and letting the blood drip even faster. He felt black begin to encroach on the edges of his vision. He grinned when he saw Voldemort begin to panic as he felt his own life be sapped.

The people on the battlefield that was Diagon Alley all watched in mixed disbelief and horror as their leaders both fell to the ground, a white screaming mist leaving both bodies and twisting around each other until they were indistinguishable and both disappeared, the scream still ringing in everyones ears.

When everyone suddenly found it within themselves to move once more, they slowly began to make their way over to the two bodies now lying on the floor only yards away from the other.

Kingsley Shacklebolt knelt down next to Harry's body and felt the pulse, then dropped his hand away and bowed his head,

"He's dead." With that statement came a flurry of activity as everyone quickly began to move. Aurors began arresting left over Death Eaters and other people began crying about their lost saviour. No one noticed the shadowy figure watching over the scene with a sad expression on his face.

--

**Privet Drive, Little Whinging. July 31****st**** 1995.**

Harry sat on his bed, awaiting for whoever Dumbledore sent to collect him and take him to wherever it is that they would be taking him.

As the clock struck nine in the morning, and Harry's aunt still hadn't rapped on his door telling him to make breakfast, Harry knew something wasn't right.

Sighing, Harry stood up from his bed and walked over to his door. He listened, pressed up close to his door for a few seconds and heard nothing. Not even the sound of Dudley's snoring or Vernon's loud chatting with aunt Petunia.

So, with another self-suffering sigh, Harry opened his door and made his way downstairs to investigate. What he found was certainly not what he was expecting.

His aunt was in the kitchen. As was his uncle, which, for the time of day, was not all that unusual. However, the fact that they weren't moving was odd. And Harry had no clue as to what was going on.

"They're not harmed. You have nothing to fear for them." Harry spun around and faced the tall man standing behind him. He had white skin and long black hair. His eyes were black and he had a large wide grin on his face.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, a waiver in his voice giving away his fear.

"Chill! I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to cut you a deal." The man said, walking into the living room. Harry followed him and sat on the chair opposite him, sitting on the edge, ready to defend himself should he need to.

"Seriously! Relax a little. I'm not going t harm you."

"Who are you?" Harry asked once again, scowling at the man.

"You can call me Hank. I suppose you would say that I'm a Reaper. Actually, I'm _the_ reaper." He said, still smiling charmingly and conjuring a small glass of what Harry assumed was Whisky.

"The Reaper? What like Death?"

"Sure. You can call me that too if you want. I do prefer Hank though. It's more approachable, don't you think?"

"Sure." Harry said slowly. He looked at the man across from him and wondered if he was for real.

"I can assure you that I am the real deal. Anyway, to cut to the chase, I'm here to cut you a deal."

"Yeah, so you said before. What's the deal?"

"I'll give you the way to defeat old Voldemort."

"Really?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Yup! However, you will have to do something for me in return."

"Ah, the world famous catch. So what is it you want me to do?"

"Die?" The man, Hank, said with a large grin on his face. Harry just stared at him in shock, not believing what the man had just said.

"Pardon?" Harry asked when he finally found the ability to speak. "You want me to die? How, exactly will that kill Voldemort?"

"Simple. You kill yourself using this dagger. Your soul and his belong to me, and both of you cheated me out of it all those years ago when you both escaped death. You owe me. I was not very happy that night. I should have received four souls and I only got two. You can't run from Death forever you know."

"What if I don't want to die yet?"

"Oh, it's up to you _when_ you die. Just as long as you use this when you do the dirty." Hank said, holding out a small dagger with a silver hilt and a medium sized sapphire at the end.

"And then what happens? Where does my soul go?"

"Oh you know. I take it with me, like I do all other souls." Hank said with a shrug. "So do we have a deal?"

"Fine. I kill myself and Voldemort dies with me? You said it is up to me as to when I do this?" Harry said, taking the dagger.

"Yep, whenever you like, hell it can be years form now. Totally up to you. Now, listen to me, because this is the important bit. You must say these words, exactly as I tell you." Harry leaned forward and took the dagger out of Hanks hands, not noticing the grin on Death's face as Harry looked at the dagger closely.

"Okay, so what do I say?"

**Gringotts, Diagon Alley. November 1****st****.**

"This is the last will and testament of Harry James Potter. I hereby declare that I am of sound body and mind. To my godfather, who has been there for me since I was thirteen and whom I shall always consider to be a second father, I leave all monetary possessions left in the Potter vaults.

"To the Weasley's I leave one million galleons. Spend it on whatever you wish, or just leave it in your vault to gather the interest! Thank you for treating me as your son or brother and finally allowing me to see how a family should treat one another.

"To Remus, I leave one million galleons and my heartfelt hanks for treating me as you cub. I want you to know that I am proud to be considered part of your pack. Please don't ever think otherwise.

"Finally, to the Order and everyone who helped me in this war. I know you will wonder why I did what I did, but I had to. I'm sorry for any disappointment and grief I have caused you, but I made a deal with Death all those years ago, on my fifteenth birthday. Voldemort will no longer bother you and he certainly won't be rising again. I want you to know that I am completely at piece with what I have done. I will finally be allowed to see me parents and Hermione. Thank you to everyone who believed in me and stood by me. It meant a lot to me. I'm sorry I had to leave you behind. I wish for you all, the happiness you deserve.

"My thanks to you all. Harry." The goblin reading the will discreetly wiped the tear from his eye and then looked over the piece of parchment in his hands at the people gathered around. Everyone in the small room was sniffing and wiping away any tears that had formed in their eyes.

"All keys to the vaults shall be given out at the teller's desk at the front. The money has been added to the vaults stipulated and will register with your next statement. Should anyone wish to contest the will read out today, then please come to me and we shall discuss it in private." With that the Goblin gathered up the parchment in front of him and walked out of the room.

"You yelled at him Ron. The last thing he knew before he died was that you were disappointed in him! He must have thought we all were! He died thinking we didn't understand!! How could you!" Sirius yelled, Remus holding him back, tears running down both of their faces.

"I-I-I didn't mean to! I thought he had dragged us all out there just to kill himself. I thought he was leaving us all to die at the hands of the Death Eaters and _him_!! I was scared!! My best friend and girlfriend had died just days before and now my other friend had killed himself!" Ron said before breaking down into tears. Molly gathered him into her arms and shushed him softly, rocking him as he cried on her shoulder.

"I think we should all go to our homes and mourn our lost saviour with only our close friends and family by us. Together we will surely just start sniping at each other. Not one of us knew of his plan. No one could have stopped him. I just wonder why it took him four years." Dumbledore said, almost to himself.

"Hermione knew. She knew and I bet she was the one to hold him off. When she died, he figured he had nothing left to lose." Ron said quietly from his mothers lap.

"Why didn't she tell us? We could have worked something out! He wouldn't have had to kill himself!" Sirius exclaimed through his tears.

"I don't know Sirius. And the two people that could have told us are dead. We shall never find out." Dumbledore said softly, he then stood up and looked around the room at the people who were invited to the reading. "I think we should all leave now, the goblins will want their meeting room back."

With that everyone slowly began to stand up and leave the room in small groups, leaving only Remus, Sirius and Tonks sitting at the table, staring at it in silence.

"You know, he wouldn't want you mourning him. After all, he did it for you." All three looked around them, searching for the owner of the voice they had just heard.

"Who's there?" Tonks asked, still looking around her.

"I am called Hank. Though you may know me as Death." A man seemed to appear from the shadows in the front of the room and sat in the seat left vacant by the goblin.

"You! You're the one who killed my godson! Why! Why couldn't you have given him another way!" Sirius roared, having to be held back, once again, by Remus.

"It was the only way. He wouldn't have survived anyway. His soul was old. It was supposed to have passed on when he was one. He skipped bail so to speak and now he has to pay for it. He paid with his soul. Don't worry he is perfectly happy where he is now. He gets to see his family and be with his sister." Hank said, shrugging his shoulders and tracing invisible patterns on the table with his finger.

"So he is happy?" Tonks asked quietly from her seat next to Sirius.

"Yep. Very. All giggles and smiles with swiss family Potter." Only Remus seemed to get his joke and sniggered, making Hank sigh. "Seriously though, you can spend the rest of your lives wondering about Harry and why he did what he did, or you can carry on with your lives, spending the money Harry so thoughtfully left you and be happy, as Harry would have wanted it."

"So you're basically telling us to mind our own business as we won't find anything out. Don't think no one noticed that the knife he used was missing when someone finally thought to search the body." Remus pointed out, making Hank smirk and look at Remus appraisingly.

"Harry said you were good. I might have a deal or two for you later on. But yes, that is what I meant. Now I have to go I am afraid. Lovely speaking with you all. Hope we can do this again sometime. Ta ta." And with that Hank disappeared.

"You know, I never figured Death as a Hank."

**A/N – Yeah, yeah, I know, you're all expecting another chapter to DitS, but well… I was watching Supernatural on the plane to New York and I kinda got this idea. I wrote it in the six hours it took to get back home!! Well… to be fair it was actually four, seeing as the hour taking off and landing where I was a nervous bleeding wreck were consumed by me gibbering in my seat… So yeah, sorry, but I had to write this. Chapter six of DitS is nearly finished though, and if you do read that, then please do vote again in the new poll… Cheers!!**


	2. Faith

Chapter One - Faith

**Nebraska. November 2006**

Harry sighed as he felt his new maser summoning him. When he agreed to the stupid deal with Hank, he never actually thought he would never get a chance to see his parents again. He figured the catch would be the fact that he would be _dying_. Obviously, that wasn't enough of a catch for Hank, nope, Harry was made a Reaper and had a quota. Like all Reaper's, though form what he could gather, many were given the choice to continue afterwards. He wasn't. At least, not yet. He was given an ultimatum, and on top of that, he had to reap the souls of one hundred and seventy poor victims. Ten for every year he evaded Hank.

It wasn't so bad at first. He went and took the souls of those in pain. Those ready to go on to wherever it was that souls went to. Somewhere he would never get a chance to go to. However, that was before someone summoned him and made him into their little lap dog. Now he killed who they told him to. And yes, he killed them. They were not ready to go, it was not their time, they just happened to do something that his master frowned upon. Harry didn't want to do it, but he had no choice. He only took hope in the fact that he was saving the life of another. However, the people he was saving were _supposed _to die.

So here he was, going to his master, to find out who was the next victim. Victim number one hundred and sixty-five. Hank had never come to him to offer an extension. When he arrived, he looked at the picture of the next victim, a man in his late twenties, early thirties. Someone he didn't know, but did know wasn't supposed to die. Sighing, he bowed his head and went out for the victim.

What he was required to do was take the life force of one victim and place it inside the dying person. The LeGrange's had obviously realised how much they could make out of these so called miracles. Not caring who they hurt on the way. Or killed as the case actually was.

The victims always saw him just as they were going to die. The fear and horror in their eyes just made him feel worse. But this was what he had to do. He didn't even want to know what would happen if he didn't. So he walked after the horrified victim, before getting bored and appearing in front of him.

--

Dean gasped as he suddenly became aware of his surroundings once more, looking around him, his eye got caught on a figure standing just behind Roy LeGrange. A young man, perhaps the same age as Sam staring at him with a sad look in his eyes. He soon became aware of someone talking to him and looked at Sam. When he glanced back, the man was no longer there, making Dean frown in confusion.

--

Harry sighed. He knew he wasn't supposed to allow anyone to see him except his master, but he knew that this man would be able to help him. He didn't look shocked to see him, only suspicious once Harry made it so that the man, Dean from what the other man with him was calling him, could no longer see him. He knew these two men would be able to help him. To get him away from his master.

He would have to wait though. He couldn't talk to them without his masters permission. Allow them to see him was easy, but he couldn't talk to them, and so couldn't ask them for help. He just knew they would think he was the bad guy in all this. Which was annoying.

He sighed as he followed his master back to the family home, just outside of the large tent thing that they did the whole 'healing' thing. He went straight to the room with the alter to him, supposedly and sighed, sitting down on the floor cross-legged. He made sure that no one, not even his master, could see him and just thought about what his life, or unlife as the case seemed to be, was now.

He had stayed, watching over his loved ones for about a week after his death. Hank had allowed him that reprieve before making his hold up his end of the deal. He watched the will reading, and asked Hank to send Sirius, Remus and Tonks a message when it appeared that they did not wish to leave the room.

He was there when he saw the guilt Ron was feeling, but he had no way of telling his old best friend that he forgave him for his harsh words. That he knew the reasoning behind it. He couldn't comfort Ron for being alone. And he felt the pain in his heart when he heard Hank telling his loved ones left behind that he was now able to see Hermione and his parents, because there wasn't anything that wasn't further from the truth than what he was actually doing.

So he had his week of watching over them, making sure that they were safe and hoping that they would be able to eventually forgive him for leaving them behind in the worst way. Then he went about reaping. For a month Hank stayed with him, showing him what to do, talking to him about what was expected of him and telling him how to choose who he went after. He was also introduced to another Reaper.

Eventually though, after four years, he took the soul of someone he knew, the Wolf finally got to Remus and in his sleep, having been bedridden for almost a month, Harry finally visited him. He talked to him for an hour, telling him of the truth and asking him to tell his parents and Hermione that he was sorry, but it was the only way, he took the soul of one Remus J Lupin and ended his life long suffering.

He didn't stay to find out the reactions of Sirius and Tonks when they found Remus' body. He wouldn't stand to see their tears anymore and left. He not only left the wizarding world, he left Britain altogether and went to America. He had always wanted to see the States anyway.

So he wandered around America, taking the souls of those he deemed in pain and needing an end to the suffering they were in. Until he came to Nebraska. Almost a year after of wandering aimlessly, searching for souls to reap, he made amistake of wandering into a summons.

And so he came to the last three years of worship to one human being who deemed themselves to being one step down from God. If there even was a God. Which Harry had yet to see proof of. Oh sure, there were Demons. In fact, he had met some, spoken to some in his wanderings. Even made friends with a few. Though not many. Most were a bit too... blood-thirsty.

However, it was through these that he heard of the hunters, people he avoided, even though he new they wouldn't do anything to him. He was a natural part of life... or the end of said life as the case was. Well he was until he became a slave.

He had heard the name Winchester though. In his travellings he had heard of the hunter named John Winchester and occasionally had heard of his son Dean. He came up with the conclusion that the Dean he had inadvertently save that day, may have been the Dean Winchester he had heard about. Though were John was , was another matter which Harry honestly couldn't say he cared about. He knew the other man with Dean wasn't John though, from what he had heard, which was quite a lot actually, John was the father of Dean. No demon ever mentioned another Winchester though. Maybe the rumours about Dean being a ladies man were somewhat misleading. Maybe the other man with him was something more to him than a friend. Which was a shame, as Harry thought he was somewhat of a catch.

Oh sure, he knew that if Ron knew him now, he would be yelling on and on about how his best friend couldn't be gay, that Harry was going to marry Ginny and have a million and one kids. Ah no Ron. Harry had soon learnt that as a Reaper, nothing was ever going to happen romantically to anyone he was even remotely attracted to, especially as most of the people he ever met were quite literally at Death's door, why hide from himself who he was attracted to? So he preferred to think he was bi, not gay. In fact, he could quite possibly be tri, being that he found some of the Demons he had spoken to very attractive as well. Though perhaps that didn't count. He was more attracted to their outer, human body. Actually, that thought almost made him sigh a sigh of relief, in that he wasn't attracted to demons. Just their human shells.

Harry actually did sigh then, and nearly jumped out of his skin when someone chuckled. He opened his eyes and looked around the room, staring in shock when he caught sight of Hank sitting on the alter.

"So this is where you got to. I had wondered. I couldn't find you and about three years ago you completely fell off the radar. It wasn't until I was contacted by another Reaper that I finally found you." Hank said, looking at Harry fondly.

"You were looking for me? I thought you had wiped your hands of me." Harry admitted, uncrossing his legs and pulling his knees up under his chin.

"Of course I was looking for you my little Reaper. I would never leave you alone. You were one of the few to ever willingly come into my court. I love you as though you were my own child. Which in a round about way you are. I made you, and so I will never 'wipe my hands' of you." Hank said, smiling softly at the blushing Reaper.

"Can you get me out of this bind?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence, making Hank raise an eyebrow at him.

"No. This is one thing that I cannot help you with, however, allowing the Winchester boy to see you was a good plan. Along with his brother, if anyone can get you out of this, they can." Hank said, hopping off the alter as Harry's master walked in, both Reapers watched as the human chanted in front of the alter and then placed a photo behind the main candle and urn.

Harry glanced at it and sighed unhappily as the face of a bright, cheerful young woman stared back at him. He stodd up from his seat on the floor and made himself visible to his master, looking at the photo and then back, before nodding and bowing out to invisibility once more.

The reapers watched as the human smirked and then left the room behind, clearly intent on starting the next healing session.

"Once you are free, make your master the next reap. If I could help you in anyway, I would. I can give you a hint though. Get rid of the talisman around your masters neck. That is saving them from you. The Winchester brothers will know that though, once they realise what they are up against."

"Wait, wait. Brothers? So the other guy is Dean's brother?" Harry asked, trying to make his voice not sound as happy as that news actually made him feel. However Hank clearly knew him too well and smirked at him, making Harry blush.

"A little too happy there Harry. A crush on Dean perhaps." Or maybe he didn't know Harry that well.

"No! Good god no!... Though his brother is a little attractive." Harry admitted in a small voice, blushing and looking down at his hands.

"So it's little Sammy that you have lit a flame for?" Hank asked smirking, though there was a small light of worry in his eyes if you were looking close enough. Harry wasn't however. Sighing he dropped his hands down to his side and looked at Hank.

"I have to go and fetch another soul. Will you be here when I get back?" Harry asked, hoping that the answer would be yes.

"No. I have some business to do myself. More reapers to make. Five more met their quota over the past month. I will find you again soon though. Don't worry, even if I have to take things into my own hands and pull a few strings, you will be free soon. I will make sure of it." Hank said, making Harry smile at him and then hug him before disappearing out of the room for his next reap.

Hank grinned and then left the room. He had some hints to leave behind.

--

Harry sighed as he went after another person. At least this time he didn't have to go too far away. In fact, he only had to go outside to the parking lot. The irritating protestor guy seemed to be the next in line for his masters ire. Which to be honest Harry couldn't really care about. He _was_ pretty irritating. Not that he deserved to die. Though he did like Layla. He may have swayed the good preachers sight or lack thereof towards the poor mortal.

So here he was, chasing after an admittedly annoying mortal who didn't actually deserve to die. Yet he had to take his soul. To make matters even better, he noticed Sam Winchester running towards them. Which is annoying, as he couldn't exactly stop taking the mortals soul just because he had a crush on the person saving his next victims life. From him. Which was probably not a good basis for a relationship

Actually, his being one of the very things the Winchesters chased after probably would put a crimper in the whole relationship. And him being dead.

Anyways, he had a soul to reap and it was just going to piss off the Winchester's even more and make them hate him for doing something beyond his control. Which was shit.

He chased the poor sucker around the parking lot, wondering if he could really drag this out and make the poor mortal suffer for the damned preaching he always yelled. Yes, he didn't agree with the whole killing of the annoying mortal, but that still didn't mean he couldn't play with his food. So to speak.

So he made the most of this stupid curse patch he was going through. And had fun. Which was being royally screwed over by the fact that the good guys were against him. And he had a crush on one of them. This possibly had to be one of the crappiest parts of his life. And that was saying something.

Then he no longer felt like he had to take the poor suckers soul. Which was weird. It was like losing his purpose. He stopped where he was, and frowned, before looking around him, possibly searching for a camera of some such. Maybe Beadle was about. What was going on? He quickly disappeared when it appeared that Sam Winchester was going to start looking for him and went back to his alter to wait for his master.

--

Harry knew he was in trouble. Not just because he was stuck serving some ungrateful irritating little human. No, he had been sent after a hunter. Not just any hunter either, Dean Winchester. Harry _really_ didn't want to take this soul. Screw what happened to him, if he ever had a chance with Sam, taking his brothers soul would certainly screw it up.

"Look dude, you don't wanna do this!" Dean said, backing up against a car, stumbling slightly in his haste.

"You're right, I really don't. Not sure I have a choice though." Harry said, smiling sadly at Dean, who chuckled nervously.

"So she really is controlling you?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Unfortunately. Even bossman can't help me. I truly am sorry. I really am. You can't understand how much I don't want to do this." Harry said, blinking back tears as he was forced to place his hands on the side of Dean's face and start to tae his soul.

Then the urge left him and he let go with a gasp. He looked at Dean in astonishment and then looked at his hands in awe.

"I'm free." Harry whispered before disappearing from sight.

--

Harry appeared back at the house, smiling gently. He was free, and he was gonna go a reapin'. Harry glanced at Sam and nodded his thanks slightly before turning back to Sue Ann LeGrange. His ex-master and now his next reap. Hank would be so proud.

Harry walked towards Sue Ann, before getting bored of the chase, this was a soul he truly wanted, and just appeared in front of her, grabbing her face and taking her soul, following her to the ground in an almost loving gesture before standing up straight once she had died.

Sam had already left and Harry had one last thing he needed to do. Sue Ann was going to do one last good deed, though her soul was going nowhere. Well. Maybe. He wasn't exactly sure on the finer details of soul reaping for another purpose.

So he left the Alter behind one last time, smiling at the thought of his freedom before visiting Layla. He figured he could save one last person. And he had a soft spot for Layla.

--

Harry appeared in the motel room of Sam and Dean Winchester after he had finished healing Layla, he had been there to hear the phone call from Sam, but used his somewhat wonky connection with his magic to put her to sleep. He would tell Dean what happened. He appeared as the brothers were getting ready to leave, Dean sat on the bed, looking a bit pathetic if you asked Harry.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"What is it?"

"Did we do the right thing?" Dean finally said with a sigh, looking out the window.

"Or course we did." Sam said incredulously

"Doesn't seem like it." Dean muttered quietly.

"You freed me." Harry said finally, appearing in front of the two brothers, making them both jump and turn to him, both pointing a gun at him. "Whoa! Put the guns away! They can't hurt me anyway. I came to say thank you, not to hurt you." Harry added, tilting his head to one side and smiling.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, whilst Dean slowly moved and placed himself between the Reaper and his brother.

"Me? I'm the reaper you freed. I really did come to thank you." Harry said quietly, looking at them in earnest... Or at least trying to. He didn't really do earnest very well anymore.

"Oh crap. Sammy, run. I'll distract him, just get as far away from here as you can. Promise me." Dean said, pushing Sam away and towards the door whilst Harry watched in amusement and rolled his eyes when Sam looked at him.

"As amusing as it is watching your er... chivalry, you do _know_ that I can find your little brother whenever I choose to right? I'm a _Reaper_, it's kind of a given that I can find my victims." Harry said, a smile trying to make it's way onto his face.

"So we're not safe? Why did you come to us? What do you want?" Dean asked, still not moving from in front of a now bemused looking Sam.

"God, you don't listen do you! I came to thank you, but now that you mention it, there is something you can do for me." Harry said, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Oh yeah? What?" Dean asked, voice wavering slightly and swallowing heavily.

"Let me go with you. Wherever it is that you will be going. Take me." Harry said, smiling softly and unfolding his hands.

"Why? Why should we? What's in it for us?" Dean asked, not noticing that Sam had gotten bored with the show down and was now sitting on a bed, flipping through an old journal of some sort.

"Honestly? Nothing. I can't really offer you anything except my protection as far as I can help. I'm a good fighter and I can kill just by touching people. Actually I should really look into that, not a good way to make friends." Harry muttered to himself, ignoring the muffled laughter from Sam.

"And what's to say you're not going to turn on us in the night and go all oogedy boogedy on us?" Dean asked, sitting on the other bed, having finally noticed that Sam was no longer standing behind him.

"Oogedy boogedy? You know, what? Nevermind, I don't want to know. And again, all you really have is my word. Look. It's boring being a Reaper. And most of all it's lonely." Harry admitted with a shrug, "Plus, I figure if I'm with you two, then there is less chance of me walking into a summoning again and being forced to kill. It's not really my gig." Harry admitted.

"So you want to come with us because you're lonely and don't want to be enslaved again?" Dean asked. Sam put the book down and looked at Harry sharply, making the Reaper blush and look down.

"Yeah. So can I come with you?"

"Yeah, why not." Sam said, cutting off whatever Dean was going to say.

"Sammy! You don't just go inviting evil beings along with us."

"Hey!" Harry protested, shutting up at the pointed look Sam sent him.

"He's hardly evil. Look at him! He looks harmless!" Sam said, again silencing Harry with a look.

"Fine! You know what fine! But it's your fault if we wake up dead one day!" Dean said.

"You know, it is in my experience, that once you're dead, you generally don't wake up to find out so." Harry pointed out, getting a glare from Dean and a chuckle from Sam. "So you mean it? I can come with you? Wow, Hank will be so impressed that I get to travel with _the_ Winchester's." Harry practically gushed.

"Wait. Who's Hank?"

"Death."

"Huh. I never figured Death as a Hank." Dean said quietly before grabbing his bag and walking out of the room, only to be followed by a quietly amused Sam and an exciteable Harry.

"Woo! Road Trip!"

"Shut up."

**Yep, took me a while huh? I wrote this whilst watching Dirty Dancing, which so made me want to make Dean dance the Mamba... Though I honestly couldn't do it without laughing. And yes I know, I changed some things, but come on! You really think Harry wouldn't have save Layla if he could? Pfft, yeah right. As you may have noticed though, Harry isn't exactly the same anymore. He's a little more ruthless for one. Other changes will beomce more apparent as the story progresses. **

**So tell me what you think and if you couldn't already tell, it's going to be Sam/Harry. The latter of which is so going to pissed come a certain episode called Heart... **


	3. Route 666

Chapter Two – Route 666

**Cape Girardeau, Missouri**

"Okay, so I think I found a way so we can bypass that construction, just east of there-"

"I'm bored." Harry said, lying on his back in the back of the Impala.

"You wanted to come." Sam stated, looking at him through the mirror.

Harry shrugged then looked out the window to Dean, "Who's he talking to?"

"Not a clue." Harry and Sam watched as Dean hung up the phone and walked back to the car.

"Change of plan. We're not going to Pennsylvania."

"We what?" Harry asked, looking over at Sam questioningly.

"How come?" Sam asked after looking at Harry and shrugging.

"Just got a call from, uh, an old friend. Her father was killed last night, she thinks it might be our kind of thing." Dean said with a shrug.

"Harry propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Dean. "So you're going to delay things so that you can get laid?"

"No! Look, believe me, she never would've called, _never_, if she didn't need us." Dean said as he climbed into the car, glaring at Harry and avoiding Sam's knowing stare.

"By old friend, you mean...?"

"He means fuck buddy." Harry stated bluntly, with a grin. Dean glared at him through the mirror.

"By old friend I mean a friend that isn't new." Sam chuckled as Harry giggled in the back seat.

"Yeah thanks. So her name's cassie, huh? You never mentioned her."

"Didn't I?" Dean asked hesitantly.

"Hehe, I sense a disruption within team Winchester."

"Shut up! And no. You didn't." Sam said, turning in his seat to face Dean better.

"Well yeah, we went out." Dean admitted, clenching his teeth when Harry sniggered.

"Told you so."

"You mean you dated someone? For more than one night?" Sam asked, ignoring Harry in the back.

"Do you have to give him more ammunition?" Dean whined, much to Harry's amusement.

"You dated her?"

"Yes! Dad and I were working on a job in Athens, Ohio, she was finishing up college, and went out for a couple weeks."

"Wow. Weeks."

"You know, you really aren't helping." Sam pointed out, turning to face Harry, before turning back to Dean. "Look it's terrible about her dad, but it sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which, by the way, how does she know what we do?" Sam asked, piercing Dean with narrowed eyes.

"I think someone told!!" Harry said in a sing-song voice.

"Shut up!"

"You told her. You told her? The secret our big family rule number one, we do what we do, and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times and you tell her everything?"

"Tsk, tsk Dean." Harry said with a grin.

"Dean!"

"What? You invited _him_ along." Dean said, jabbing a thumb behind him at Harry.

"Hey! I'm hardly going to go out and tell everyone this big family secret!" Harry exclaimed sitting up.

"No one but us can see you!" Dean exclaimed, clutching the steering wheel.

"Leave him alone Dean." Sam said with a sigh.

"Yeah! Leave me alone Dean!"

--

After much bickering in the car, they eventually made their way to the newsroom in which Cassie worked, walking through the throngs of people, following Dean as he searched out for the girl they had come to help.

"Do you have any idea who we're looking for?"

"No, and stop talking to me, I don't want people to think I'm insane."

"Why would they think you are insane?"

"Because I'm talking to thin air!" Sam hissed, glaring at Harry when he giggled and then skipped ahead of him, pulling faces at the people he passed. "Great, a Reaper who skips and generally acts like a five year old. Only to us, would this happen." Sam muttered to himself, before moving after the insane Reaper and Dean.

"Hey Cassie." Sam walked over to where Dean was standing next to a young woman in an awkward silence, Sam smiled at the two, ignoring the maniacal laughter coming from Harry. "This is my brother, Sam. I'm sorry about your dad."

"Yeah, me, too." Cassie said sadly, staring at Dean. Not realising Harry was now leaning heavily on Sam, helpless with laughter.

"Oh the awkwardness! You so know she dumped him." Harry exclaimed, through laughter. Sam bit his lip to stop laughing.

--

The four of them (well three and a Reaper) went back to Cassie's house later that night to discuss what happened. They went to the kitchen and sat around the table, Cassie making tea for both Sam and Dean.

"When she's not looking, can I drink yours?" Harry asked, sitting down next to Sam and looking put out that Cassie couldn't see him.

Sam sighed and nudged his cup towards Harry, who smiled and sniffed the contents of the cup.

"I haven't had tea for so long." Harry said, sadly, making both Dean and Sam look at him before turning their attention back to Cassie who started to talk.

"My mother's in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her. I wish she would walk by herself, she's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad." Cassie said, grabbing her own mug and sitting opposite the brothers at the table.

"Why?"

"He was scared. He was seeing things." Cassie said, looking into her mug.

"Like what?"

"He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him."

"A truck? Who was the driver?" Sam asked, ignoring Harry as he dipped his fingers in the tea and then sucked them.

"What? I've got to drink it somehow without her noticing. Looks like you've got a phantom or something by the way. Or her dad was a crazy person."

"He didn't talk about a driver. Just a truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And in the accident, Dad's truck was dented. Like it had been slammed into, by something big."

"Yup, phantom. Saw something like this once. Couple of years back. I took their soul." Harry added as an after thought.

"Now, you're sure this dent wasn't there before?" Sam asked, ignoring Harry who was rambling to himself over _where_ he saw this happen.

"Minnesota or Massachusetts. It began with an 'm'. Maybe."

"He sold cars. Always drove a new one. I mean, there wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night, there was mud everywhere. The was a distinct set of muddy tracks from Dad's car, leading right to the edge. Where he went over. One set of tracks. His." Cassie said, crying softly over her tea.

"Comfort her, you miserable sod." Harry said, leaning behind Sam to poke Dean.

"And the first person killed was a friend of your fathers?" Dean asked, glaring at Harry and then turning back to face Cassie.

"Oh yes. Excellent way of comforting her." Sam nudged Harry under the table in warning, making the Reaper sigh and dip his fingers back in the tea and suck them.

"Best friend. Clayton Solmes. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent, no tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about Dad. He lost control of his car."

"Could happen. It was raining after all." Harry pointed out, turning his attention back to Sam's tea.

"Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?"

"No."

"Of course she wouldn't. Her father is perfect and virtuous in her eyes." Harry snorted, sulking when Sam took his tea back in punishment.

"And you think this vanishing truck ran him off the road?" Sam asked looking up at Cassie, taking his attention off of Harry who took the opportunity to dip his fingers back in the tea. Dean noticed and rolled his eyes.

"When you say it aloud like that. Listen, I'm a little sceptical about this... Ghost stuff, or whatever it is you guys are into."

"Yeah, into." Harry said sniggering, muffling it slightly when Sam glanced at him out the corner of his eye.

"Sceptical. Yeah, if I remember, I think you said it was nuts." Dean said, chuckling.

"Ooh, I sense a story." Harry said, standing up and stretching before wandering over to stand behind Dean.

"That was then."

"Yep, definite story." Harry said, leaning over Dean and rest on his shoulders. Dean stayed still so he didn't look too insane over jumping for no reason and then pummelling thin air.

"Mm." Dean said coldly. Sam glanced over at Cassie sympathetically.

"I just know that I can't explain what happened up there, so I called you." A woman walked into the room, making everyone look up, and Harry unwrap himself from around Dean's shoulders, much to the hunters relief. "Mom! Where have you been, I was so-"

"Oh. I had no idea you'd invited friends over." Cassie's mum said, walking over to Cassie.

"Uh, Mom, this is Dean, a friend of mine from... college. And his brother, Sam." Cassie said vaguely, making Harry chuckle and then walk back to stand next to Sam.

"Well, uh, I won't interrupt you." Cassie's mother turned and started to leave the room before Dean stopped her.

"Mrs Robinson. We're sorry for your loss. And we'd like to talk to you for a minute, if you don't mind."

"I'm really not up to that just now." Mrs Robinson said coldly before turning back around and walking out of the room.

"Ah Dean, such a mother's man."

--

The next day, there was another accident, another of Cassie's father's friends killed in a seeming accidental car crash. Sam, Dean and Harry went to the scene of the crash, meeting Cassie there as she talked to the Mayor.

"Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy's car? See if it was pushed?" Dean asked, ignoring Harry as he walked over to the car to get a better look. Sam watched Harry walk off and stood next to Dean.

"Who's this?" The mayor asked, looking at Sam and Dean suspiciously.

"Dean and Sam Winchester. Family friends. This is Mayor Harold Todd." Cassie said to Sam and Dean.

"So, one set of tire tracks. One. Doesn't point to foul play." The Mayor, Harold said. Dean glanced at him and then looked at the tracks leading from the car.

"Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you. If you're indifferent about-"

"Indifferent?" Harold asked, making Cassie sneer at him

"Would you close the road if the victims were white?" Cassie asked cruelly.

Harold looked at her, offended. "You're suggesting I'm racist, Cassie? I'm the last person you should talk to like that."

"Why is that?"

"Why don't you ask your mother?" Harold said, before walking away, leaving a hurt looking Cassie behind.

--

Later the three hunters went back to their motel room to change into suits. Well Sam and Dean changed into suits. Sam just sat on one of the beds and watched.

"I'll say this for her, she's fearless."

"Pfft, that's not hard. Anyone can insult someone higher than them when angry enough." Harry said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Mmhmm." Dean agreed, though with whom, Sam and Harry couldn't place.

"I bet she kicked your ass a couple of times." Sam said with a grin. Dean glared at him, making Sam smile even wider at him. "What's interesting it you guys never really look at each other at the same time. You look at her when she's not looking, she checks you out when you look away. It's just an interesting observation. In a, you know, observationally interesting way."

"He didn't comfort her either. Didn't even consider touching her." Harry pointed out, finding himself on the receiving end of Dean's glare.

"Shut up you. And now that we can talk to you without getting funny looks. Don't touch me! And especially don't hug me! Back on topic though, we have more pressing issues at the moment I think."

"Hey, if I'm hittin' a nerve." Sam said vaguely, making Harry snigger before standing up and helping Sam tie his tie properly.

"The amount of times I've heard you two dress up, I'd think you have a fetish or something. Not that it's a bad thing mind."

"Oh let's go." Dean said with a self-suffering sigh.

--

They made their way to the dock by the lake where they found two men, one African-American and one Caucasian sitting at a table, playing checkers.

"Excuse me, are you Ron Stubbins? You were friends of Jimmy Anderson?" Dean asked when the Caucasian man nodded.

"Who are you?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"We're with Mr. Anderson's insurance company. We're just here to dot some i's and cross some t's." Dean said casually.

"We were wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?" Sam asked, opening his notebook.

"Oh yeah sure. These are questions insurance companies ask." Harry said from behind the two brothers.

"What do you mean, unusual?" Ron asked.

"See, he's wondering why you're asking this as well."

"Well, visions, hallucinations." Sam asked, ignoring Harry when he rolled his eyes and walked over to look at the game board.

"Huh, he's losing miserably here."

"It's all part of the medical examination kind of things, all very standard." Dean said, with a warm smile.

"You so want to stick your tongue out at me, don't you?"

"What company did you say you were with?" Ron asked, standing up from the table to face them properly.

"Heh, can I stick my tongue out at you now? He's a sharp one, you've got to admit."

"All National Mutual." Dean said, partially pulling an envelope out of the inside pocket of his jacket, then putting it back. The other man at the table looked over curiously. "Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big, black truck?" The other man suddenly look even more interested.

"Oh, not suspicious at all. Tell me, how would an insurance company know about this?" Harry asked, leaning his elbow on the table and looking at Dean, smiling sweetly at the brother.

"What the hell are you talking about? You even speaking English?" Ron asked angrily.

"Pssht. Dean wouldn't know proper English if it bit him on the arse. You're wasting your time there." Harry stated, noticing Dean clench his jaw and smiled widely at him.

"Son, this truck, a big, scary, monster-lookin' thing?" The other man asked, turning his attention to Sam and Dean. Harry chuckled evilly and moved a couple of the pieces on the board.

"Yeah, actually, I think so." Dean said.

"Hm." The man said, nodding slowly, thoughtfully.

"What?"

"I have heard of a truck like that."

"You have? Where?" Sam asked, moving forward slightly.

"Not where – when. Back in the sixties, there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck." The man told them, making Harry glance up and catch Sam's eye before nodding smugly.

"Told you it was a phantom. Washington! That's where it was! Washington! Well what do you know, it's didn't begin with an 'm'" Harry said musingly, Sam glanced upwards and sighed softly, before turning his attention back to the two men.

"They ever catch the guy who did it?" Dean asked, ignoring the by-play between his brother and their Reaper.

"Never found him. Hell, I'm not sure they even really looked. See, there was a time this town wasn't too friendly to all it's citizens." The man said, glaring at Ron.

"Thank you." Sam said, before he and Dean walked back to their car, Harry quickly standing and running after them.

"Truck." Dean said. Sam and Harry glanced at him before continuing back to the car.

"Keeps comin' up, doesn't it?" Sam asked.

"Bit suspicious." Harry added, catching up with them

"You know what I was thinking? You heard of the _Flying Dutchman_?" Dean asked, making Harry look at him curiously.

"Yeah, a ghost ship infused with the captain's evil spirit. Basically a part of him." Sam said.

"You do know it was a real ship right? Cursed, but real." Harry told them, shrugging when they stared at him.

"Anyway, yeah, so what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck that's the extension of some bastard ghost, re-enacting past crimes."

"Can I just say, I told you so?" Harry asked, backing away from the twin glares aimed at him.

"The victims have all been black men." Sam pointed out, ignoring Harry, who started sulking.

"It's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family." Dean pointed out, making Harry pull a face and stick his tongue out.

"Alright, you work with that angle. Go talk to her." Sam told him.

"Yeah, I will."

"Oh, and you might also want to mention that other thing." Sam told him as they reached the car and stopped.

"What other things?"

"The serious unfinished business. Dean, what is going on between you two?"

"You have to ask? How innocent are you?"

"Alright, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said." Dean admitted with a shrug, ignoring Harry.

"Oh, ok. Yeah."

"Jeeze, you two have a weird relationship."

"Okay, a lot more. Maybe. And I told her the secret about what we do, and I shouldn't have." Dean said, unlocking the car.

"No, look, man., everybody's gotta open up to someone, sometime."

"Yeah, I don't. It was stupid to get that close, and look how it ended."

"You loved her." Harry said quietly, flinching at the glare Dean aimed at him.

"You loved her?" Sam asked, stunned.

"Oh, god." Dean said, opening the door of the car.

"You were in love with her, but you dumped her." Dean looked at him and then shook his head once, making Sam gape at him and Harry to flinch once again. "Oh wow, she dumped you."

"Get in the car." Dean said, getting in his side and leaning over to open the door for Sam and Harry. Harry quickly got in and stared up at Sam who wasn't moving. "Get in the car!" Dean yelled, making Sam jump and then get in the car, still looking slightly stunned.

--

After had dumped them back at the motel, Sam and Harry went inside and sat down on the beds. Sam leaned back and put his hands behind his head.

"Wow, you were right." Sam said after a while of silence.

"Huh? When? I'm right quite a bit. That is how amazing I am."

"Why did you really want to come with us?" Sam asked, turning on his side to look at Harry.

"I told you, it was lonely. I may be a reaper, but I'm not into killing random people. I go for the ones that deserve it. Plus, I only have three more people to reap. I don't want this to end." Harry said softly, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"What happens when you reap three more people?"

"I don't know. Well I do, but it's more Reaper lore. You know? I have two choices. One is never going to happen."

"Do you think Dean is finding out any information?" Sam asked, sensing Harry's need to change the subject.

"I personally think he's getting laid. He may have got some information beforehand though."

"He is talking to her." Sam jumped and sat up to face the stranger in their room, noticing vaguely that Harry didn't seem surprised, just pleased.

"Hank! What are you doing here?" Harry asked, smiling widely.

"Hank? Wait. That would mean you're-"

"Death! He is a sharp one! I like him!" Hank said, moving to sit on the same bed as Harry.

"So why are you here?"

"I was just checking up on you. Making sure that you were being treated as Death's favourite should be treated." Hank said, narrowing his eyes at Sam, who shrank away from him and clutched a pillow to his chest.

"Leave him alone Hank. They're treating me fine. I'm not being forced to kill this time at least." Harry said with a sad smile.

Hank looked at Harry and sighed before dragging the small Reaper onto his lap and hugging him, ignoring the stunned look on Sam's face.

"I'm extending your quota by fifty-six. The amount your master made you reap. You shouldn't have had to do those." Hank whispered into Harry's ear, hugging the Reaper closer to him.

"Thank you. It will give me more time."

"Indeed. Well I had better go. I have five new Reapers that I should be teaching. I just had to check on you." Hank said before moving Harry from off his lap and disappearing, leaving a stunned Sam.

"He just vanished."

"Yeah, he had to go, He told you that."

"He vanished though!"

"Yup."

"He hugged you."

"So? He is allowed to. He's like... My father I suppose. Only more."

"More?"

"Well yeah, should he choose to take pleasure in my body, he can. It wouldn't be incestuous or anything. Just, normal." Harry said with a shrug, moving to lie back down on the bed.

"Take pleasure in your body? You mean sleep with you?"

"Yeah. He hasn't mind. I'm his favourite, so he has a little more respect for me. If I wanted it to happen though, he wouldn't turn me away."

"Oh. I see."

"You don't, but it's sweet that you pretend to. So, what do you think we should do now?"

"Sleep? I don't know. We can't really do anything without any information. We'll have to wait for Dean."

"Okay, so we wait. I can do that. What did you do before?"

"Before what?"

"Before you were a Reaper?"

"What's to say I wasn't always a Reaper?"

"I dunno, you just feel human."

"Feel human? Right."

"Yeah, look I don't know. You just do." Sam said with a shrug.

"Oh, well I was human, yeah. Look, I'm tired, let's talk about this another time. Hopefully Dean will have some information." Harry said, before turning his back to Sam and hugging the pillow to his chest.

--

The next day, Sam and Harry learnt of another death, and made their way to the scene of the crime, Sam managing to lie his way past the tape and get a better look at the body, Mayor Harold Todd. He glanced over noticing Dean making his way over to him, Harry walking beside him, obviously either teasing him or catching him up.

"He's with me." Sam said to the officer, smiling when he nodded and walked away. "Where were you last night? You didn't make it back to the motel." Sam points out with a grin.

"Nope."

"I'm guessing you guys worked things out?"

We'll be working things out when we're ninety." Dean said dryly, making Sam laugh. "So Harry told me the body had been crushed."

"Hey! You sound like you don't trust me! Death is my deal! I'm good with death!"

"Yeah, in more ways than one." Sam muttered, grinning when Harry blushed bright red, much to Dean's confusion. "The cops are stumped, but it's almost like someone ran him over."

"Something like a truck?" Dean asked, still sending confused glances between the blushing Reaper and his brother.

"Yep."

"Tracks?"

"Nope."

Dean sighed and looked at the body covered up behind Sam. "What was the Mayor doing here anyway?"

"He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago." Harry told him, pleased that he had managed to control his blush.

"Yeah, but he's white. He doesn't fit the pattern." Dean pointed out.

"Killings didn't happen up on the road. That doesn't fit either." Sam added, making all of them look at each other in confusion.

"Huh, unusual for a phantom or ghost of any kind."

--

They spent the day separated, Harry went to his contacts, trying to find out any information that he could, whilst Dean looked on the computer and Sam went to the dock to find any information he could.

Harry answered the phone Sam had given him, Sam having taken Dean's for the time being. "Hello? Er... Is this thing working?"

"Yeah, have you never used a phone before?" Dean's voice asked through the phone.

"Nope. Never had need."

"What?"

"Who am I going to talk to via a phone? I can just contact other Reapers telepathically. Well if I can get the damned connection to work."

"You make it sound complicated. Anyway, we've found out a possible suspect."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, a Cyrus Dorian."

"Cyrus Dorian?"

"Yeah, why, you heard of him?"

"Possibly. I'll get back to you." Harry said, and hung up. Well he hoped he had hung up. If he heard Dean's voice, then he knew whatever button he had pressed, didn't hang up after a conversation.

"Hank? Can you hear me?" Harry asked, sitting on the bed in the motel and closing his eyes.

"What's up my little one?" Hank asked, as he appeared in the room, bending to press a kiss to Harry's temple.

"I need your help. It's about a personal reap of yours."

"Oh? Who's that then?"

"Cyrus Dorian?" Harry asked, looking up at Hank hopefully. Hank narrowed his eyes and sat down on the bed opposite Harry.

"He's back then is he? Naughty."

"I think he is. He's killing the friends of someone Dean knows, so we came to help. Well. Dean and Sam came to help, I came along for the ride."

"Ah, well tell them I know where to find Cyrus' remains, you can stop him if you want little one. Though, they can salt the remains should they wish."

"Right, I'll just ring them up then. Do you know how to work this thing?"

"Yeah, just um... go into there... No. Oh give it here. Bloody wizards." Hank muttered taking the phone off of a blushing Harry. "Who did you want to ring first?"

"Sam."

"Should have guessed." Hank said, making Harry blush. He pressed a couple of buttons and then handed the phone back to Harry. "It's ringing."

--

It was over an hour before Sam and Dean walked into the room at the motel, walking in on a lightly blushing and somewhat dishevelled Harry, sitting on a bed, with a strange man sitting at the table in the room.

"Harry. Hank." Sam said, with a knowing grin in their direction, making Harry blush even more, something Dean wasn't sure was even possible if he hadn't seen it.

"Who are you?" Dean asked, looking at the extra man.

"This is Hank. Or Death. My boss." Harry said, nibbling on his lower lip nervously.

"Death? That's Death? _The_ Death?" Dean asked weakly, stumbling over to sit on the other bed.

"Yes."

"Wh-why? Why is he here?" Dean asked, not taking his eyes off of Hank, much to the others opinion.

"He reaped the soul of one Cyrus Dorian." Harry said, making Hank smile brightly and nod in agreement, before he stood up and walked over to Harry, sitting down on the bed next to him. Sam watched the byplay between the two with a look of amusement on his face.

"So why are we here?" Sam asked, moving to sit on the bed next to Dean.

"I can take you to where he was laid to rest, so to speak. His body was dumped in the lake. I can take you to where in the lake." Hank told them.

"Really? Why would you do that for us?" Dean asked suspiciously. Hank was about to answer, before the phone in Dean's pocket rang. "Hello? ... Wait, calm down a minute. What's happening? ... I'll be right there! Don't worry!" Dean said, before hanging up the phone and looking at Sam.

"Who was it?"

"Cassie, she said Cyrus is trying to run her house down." Dean said with a strange look on his face. Everyone in the room stood up and left the room. Hank following behind with an amused look on his face.

--

"You didn't see who was driving the truck?" Dean asked Cassie. They had made their way as fast as possible to Cassie's house and had arrived at the same time as Mrs Robinson.

"Seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?"

"Whoever's controlling the truck wants you afraid first."

--

The quartet left the house after hearing the story of how Cassie's father and his friends killed Cyrus after he had burnt down the church Cassie's parents were going to get married in. Killing a group of children practising in there in the process.

"My life was so simple. Just school. Exams. Papers on polycentric cultural norms." Sam said with a chuckle. Harry and Hank swapped looks and shrugged.

"So, I guess I saved you from a boring existence." Dean told him with a chuckle.

"Yeah, occasionally, I miss boring."

"Boring's overrated." Harry said quietly, much to Hanks amusement.

"Alright, so, this killer truck-" Dean said after a pause.

"I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this killer truck'." Sam said, Dean nodded is agreement and laughed.

"Alright, well, this Cyrus guy..." Dean said.

"Yep." Harry said, nodding in agreement, hank chuckling next to him.

"Evil on a level that infected even his truck. And when he died, the swamp became his tomb. And the spirit was dormant for forty years."

"So what woke it up?" Sam mused.

"Ah, he wasn't woken up. He escaped. I don't know how though. Sorry." Hank said with a shrug.

"So now his spirit is out for blood." Sam stated darkly.

"Yeah I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway?"

"You know we're gonna have to dredge up that body from the swamp, right?" Sam asked, groaning when Dean smiles weakly and nods.

"You said it."

"Yeah. So Hank, fancy taking us there?" Sam asked. Cassie came out of the house then and ran over to them.

"Hey."

"Hey. She's asleep. Now what?"

"Well, you stay put, and look after her. And we'll be back. Don't leave the house." Dean told her.

"Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it."

"Don't leave the house, please?" Dean asks, looking at her smiling, before leaning down and kissing her.

"Do we really have the time for this, because if so..." Hank asked, leering at Harry, who blushed bright red. Sam rolled his eyes before clearing his throat.

--

They made their way to the part of the swamp that Cyrus and his trunk were dumped with the help of Hanks directions. Pulling the truck out using a dredge.

"Alright, let's get her up." Sam said as Dean pulled the truck almost completely out of the swamp.

"Harry. I've got to go. Stay in the car." Hank added, almost as an after thought and then disappeared.

"Alright, little more, little more. Little more." Sam said, watching as Dean pulled the entire thing out onto the mud and then stopped the machine at Sam's word and got out.

"Hell yeah!"

"Now I know what she sees in you." Sam said grinning, making Harry chuckle.

"What?" Dean asked, making both Sam and Harry start laughing.

"Come on, man, you can admit it, you're still in love with her. Just like Harry can admit to what he and Hank did earlier." Sam added, making Harry gape at him and then blush brightly, almost glowing.

"Oh can we focus, please?" Dean asked, opening the trunk of the car and taking out the stuff they would need.

"I'm just sayin', Dean. Alright, what am I getting?" Sam said with a sigh.

"Gas, flashlight."

"Got it, got it." Sam said, grabbing the items needed and standing up. Harry watched them and moved over to the car.

"Alright, let's get this done.

"Alright." Sam said, closing the trunk and walking over to the truck.

"Can I burn the body?" Harry asked curiously glancing at the items the two brothers had taken out of the trunk.

"No way! That's my job, just stay in the car and out of the way!" Dean told him as he cautiously opened the truck door and finding a decomposing skeleton of Cyrus Dorian. "Let's get to it."

Together, they laid the skeleton out and poured gas and salt over it before setting it on fire, watching as the body burst into flames.

"Think that'll do it?" Sam asked, just as they heard the sound of a truck engine roaring to life behind them.

"I guess not." Dean said weakly.

"Er, not to be an alarmist or anything..." Harry shouted from the backseat of the Impala.

"So, burning the body had no effect on that thing?" Sam asked, ignoring the slowly panicking Reaper in the background.

"Oh, sure it did. Now it's really pissed." Dean said, watching the body burn in front of them.

"But Cyrus' ghost is gone, right, Dean?" Sam asked nervously.

"Apparently not the part that fused with the truck." Dean said grimly, walking over to his car and getting in.

"Where are you going?"

"Yeah, where are we going?"

"I'm going for a little ride."

"What?" Sam and Harry asked at the same time.

"I'm gonna lead that thing away. That rusted piece of crap, you've gotta burn it." Dean told Sam, pointing to the rusting truck behind him.

"How the hell am I supposed to burn a truck, Dean?"

"I don't know. Figure something out." Dean said, before reaching to his side and grabbing a bag full of objects, and then throwing it out the window to Sam. He then pressed his foot down on the accelerator and drove off.

"You know, this isn't such a good idea." Harry said, moving forward in his seat and leaning on the passenger seat.

"Shut up. Do you have a better idea?"

"Don't drag me with you?"

"You could have gotten out of the car! No one forced you!" Dean said, answering his phone when it started ringing.

"I don't have a minute! What are we doing?" Dean yelled into the phone, he paused for a minute before grumbling and hanging up, looking at the truck in his rear-view mirror.

The phone rang again a couple a of minutes later, making Dean grumble again and then answer it, much to Harry's amusement. "This better be good." Dean spoke into the phone, whilst Harry looked behind him.

"He's getting closer." Harry pointed out cheerfully, deciding to embrace this, he may as well, he had nothing else to do in the car.

"Not helpful!" Dean yelled at him before turning his attention back to the phone and Sam. "I'm in the middle of nowhere, with a killer truck on my ass and an annoying Reaper pointing it out! I mean it's like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus."

"Told you I should have done it, but no, it just had to be you." Harry pointed out, making Dean grit his teeth.

"Fine! Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway!" Dean said, catching a glimpse of the sign as he raced past.

"Uh, he's nearly on us!' Harry said, still looking behind them at the ever looming truck.

"I know! Yes!" He yelled into the phone. The truck hit them, making them both jerk forward in their seats. Suddenly Dean turned the car sharply, making Harry fly to the other side of the car.

"Hey watch it! Ooh, you lost him!" Harry said before noticing the truck appear on the road again. "Oh maybe not."

"Not helping. No not you Sam. I made the turn you're gonna need to move this thing a little faster."

"No!"

"What?"

"Wait- wait! Yes! I see it!"

"Er... Dean. It's beside us!"

"What?" Dean stopped the car sharply and they both watched as the truck passed them before Dean quickly turned left. "Now what?"

"Go faster!" Harry said, looking for the currently absent truck.

"Stop?" Dean asked into the phone incredulously. Dean watched the odometer carefully before he suddenly turned sharply and stopped again. Harry smashed into the seat in front of him.

"Ow!" Harry said, pushing himself back into his seat and moving to the middle.

"Oh be quiet! Sam? It's just staring at me, what do I do?"

"I vote we move. Anywhere." Harry added, looking at the truck in front of them. Dean put his phone down and they both watched as the truck lurched forward and drove towards them. Just as it was about to collide with them, it disappeared.

"Where'd it go?" Dean picked up his phone, glancing at Harry who just shrugged.

"Don't ask me. I was the one who suggested moving away from here."

"What church?" Dean asked into the phone.

"A church? This is a church?"

"The place where Cyrus burned down." Dean told him. Harry nodded, "Not a whole lot left."

"Well if it burned down..." Harry said slowly, looking away.

"Maybe? Maybe?! What if you were wrong?" Dean yelled into the phone.

"Then I would have a job." Harry exclaimed from his seat.

"You shut up. I seriously don't know what Sammy was thinking agreeing to let you come along." Dean yelled before turning his attention back to the phone where Sam was doing a poor job of explaining himself.

"You know, if I happen to sneeze and lean forward, just tap you, do you think you would die a horrific death" Harry asked casually, leaning forward and making Dean flinch.

--

Sam and Harry sat in the car, watching as Dean and Cassie talked outside of her house.

"What do you think they are saying?" Harry asked, leaning forward in his seat and leaning on the back of Sam's seat.

"Goodbye?"

"Huh. Never liked saying goodbye myself. So, how comes you get to drive and I don't." Harry asked, watching absently as Cassie and Dean kissed and then broke apart and hug. Eventually Dean let go and made his way back to the car. Sam waved at Cassie as Dean got in and then pulled away from the house.

"I like her."

"Ditto." Harry said from the backseat.

"Yeah." Dean nodded from his seat.

"You meet someone like her, ever make you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?" Sam asked. Dean smiled at him and then took a pair of sunglasses out of the glove compartment and put them on.

"Wake me up when it's my turn to drive." Dean said, slouching down in his seat.

"Do you think we could let me drive and just not wake him up?" Harry asked, looking curiously at Dean.

"Don't even think it Sam. That crazy thing is going no where near the wheel of my baby." Dean muttered, shifting in his seat slightly. Sam chuckled and glanced at a sulking Harry through the mirror.

**A/N – Here's a mega chapter for everyone who waited, and an apology for how long it took! I actually think most chapters will be of a similar length now... Huh. As for the relationship between Hank and Harry, well that's for you lot to make your mind up about. They may have done something, they may have not. It may have been completely innocent. As for Hank having the right to do anything he wishes with Harry, well he did make him, and he can.... er... unmake him if Harry ever upset him. Harry's his favourite though, it gets him certain rights. **

**Hope you liked it though! Thank you everyone who reviewed for the last chapter and I'm really sorry how long this took!**


	4. Nightmare

Chapter Three – Nightmare

Harry watched with a frown from the table he was currently sitting on, as Sam sat up in his bed, gasping. He stayed silent as Sam shakily stood up from his bed and then moved over to Dean's bed and shook him.

"Dean." Sam shook Dean until he woke and blinked sleepily up at him. "Dean!" The urgency in Sam's voice rose a pitch, making Dean groan. Sam stepped off the bed and moved around the room.

"What are you doing, man? It's the middle of the night."

"Actually, it's three in the morning. Yes I know. Shut up Harry." Harry said with a sigh when both Dean and Sam glared at him. He had been travelling with the two brothers now for almost a month and thus had gotten used to being told to shut up.

"Yeah, not to be mean, but shh. We have to go." Sam told him, looking at Dean urgently. Harry silently jumped off the table and walked over to Sam who was packing items haphazardly into a duffle bag and placing a calming hand on his shoulder.

"What's happening?" Dean asked sleepily, yawning widely. Harry rolled his eyes and then took the bag off of Sam.

"I'll carry it to the car." Harry muttered as Sam glared at Dean who was still yawning as he slowly got out of bed.

"We have to go. Right now." Sam said, practically dragging his brother off the bed and shoving a pair of jeans at him. Dean nodded sleepily as he got dressed, then followed his two companions out the motel room and to the car.

"So where are we going?" Dean asked once they had drove off and were driving along a dark road. Sam glanced at him, his phone held to his ear and shrugged, making Harry snigger silently in the backseat.

"McCreedy. Detective McCreedy, badge number 15A. And I've got a signal 480 in progress. I need the registration owner of a two-door Sedan, Michigan license plate, Mary, Frank, 6037." Harry sighed and pulled faces at the back of Sam's head, making Dean snigger as Sam looked over his shoulder and glared at an innocent looking Harry. "Yeah, okay, just hurry."

"Sammy, relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare." Dean said reassuringly, making Sam smile at him, though to Harry it looked more like a grimace.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"No, I mean it. You know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out, you'll see." Dean said, staring straight ahead as he drove.

"Why are we driving when we don't know where we're going?" Harry asked leaning forward slightly.

"No clue." Dean admitted, smiling widely at Sam when he glared at him.

"Yes, I'm here. Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address? Got it. Thanks." Sam hung up the phone and then looked at it in stunned silence.

"So... We even on the right road?" Harry asked with a sigh, glancing out the window.

"It checks out. How far are we?" Sam asked, ignoring Harry who huffed and then crossed his arms in a sulk.

"From Saginaw?"

"Yeah."

"Couple hours."

"Hours? I'm tired!" Harry whined, huffing again in the back of the car.

"You don't sleep!"

"I could." Harry said obstinately.

"Whatever. I do agree though. Dean. Drive Faster."

--

They arrived at the house of Jim Miller too late. Harry knew the reaper had only just left, he could still somewhat sense the reaper. He knew who it was, and knew that the person was not supposed to naturally die now.

"Huh. Guess Becky got a job tonight." Harry said, looking over the crowd that had gathered around Jim's house and the emergency team there. The three stood and watched with the crowd as Jim's body was taken out in a body bag, while the police spoke to Jim's family.

Dean turned to a nearby woman who seemed to know the family. "What happened?"

"Suicide. I can't believe it." The woman told him, looking shocked, though the morbid curiosity was still there.

"That's a lie. Becky generally doesn't go for suicides. She likes the gossip that comes with murder." Harry muttered to Sam, who frowned and stepped up next to Dean.

"Did you now him?" Sam asked the woman, not taking his eyes off the deceased's family.

"I saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine's. He always seems - seemed so normal. I guess you never know what's going on behind closed doors."

"Yeah, I guess not." Dean agreed, nodding and looking over at the family.

"How did – how are they saying it happened?" Sam asked curiously, Harry looked at him sharply with a touch of suspicion.

"I heard they found him in the garage. Locked inside his car with the engine running." Sam looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow, making Dean nod once.

"Hey, you're completely leaving me out of this little communicating with just facial expressions thing! Not fair! But you are on the right tracks. Dunno what happened, but it was definitely not suicide."

"Do you know what time they found him?" Sam asked, as Dean took a step away and closer to where Harry was standing near the Impala.

"Oh, it just happened about an hour or two ago. Oh his poor family. I can't even imagine what they're going through." The woman said as they all watched as the woman on the doorstep of the house began to sob loudly. Sam watched and walked off.

"Sam, we got here as fast as we could." Dean said, stopping Sam from walking away from him.

"Not fast enough. It just doesn't make any sense, man. Why would I even have these premonitions, unless there was a chance that I could stop them from happening?" Sam said, looking at the two men helplessly.

"I don't know." Dean admitted, making Sam sigh and look away from the other two.

"So, what do you think killed him?"

"Why a 'what'? Why couldn't it be a human?"

"Well it could be, but I watched it happen! He was definitely murdered, and you know it! You told us so. Something trapped him in the garage." Sam said, making Dean and Harry exchange a glance.

"Well, what? A spirit, a poltergeist, what?"

"Could still have been a human." Harry added, making Sam exhale angrily.

"I don't know what it was. I don't know why I'm having these dreams, I don't know what the hell is happening!" Sam exclaimed angrily. Dean and Harry just stayed silent and stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing, man, I'm just worried about you." Dean said, Harry nodding in agreement.

"Well, don't look at me like that. Either of you!"

"I'm not lookin' at you like anything. Though I gotta say, you look like crap." Dean said, making Harry wince and look away.

"I don't agree, I'm just worried about you." Harry said quietly, still not looking at Sam anymore.

"Nice. Thanks. Look stop being worried about me, I'll be fine."

"Yeah – well come on, let's just pick this up in the morning. We'll check out the house, we'll talk to the family."

"Dean, I think I just need to be alone for a bit. I'll meet you back at the motel. Both of you. How you think the family is gonna talk to us though, I have no idea. They're devastated." Sam pointed out, making Dean grin widely.

"You're right there, but I think I know who they will talk to. Be careful when you're out there on your own though. Don't be too long." Dean said, watching Sam walk off and then turning to look at Harry, who was still watching Sam walk off.

"You really believe there is something into this and these... _visions_?" Dean asked, waving his arms around trying to find the right word.

"You know, I had a friend who was thought to be a couple of colours short of a rainbow. Turns out, she was somewhat psychic and heard the voices of the wind. They told her things. No one listened to her, so no one was prepared when Voldiebear attacked Diagon. Well I was, but I was generally always prepared. Regular old boy scout me." Harry added, saluting a glaring Dean.

"Is there a moral to this story?" Dean asked dryly.

"Yeah, listen to your little brother. He's scared, he doesn't understand what's going on, but he is getting these visions. You should support him."

--

The next morning the three went out to the Miller's house to pay their respects, well to pay their respects _and_ to find out some information to help them discover what was going on.

"This has got to be a whole new low for us." Sam said as he pressed the doorbell. Both brothers were dressed as ministers, much to Harry's amusement.

"Oh I don't know, you look kinda hot as a priest." Harry said, leering at Sam as he leant against the wall of the house.

"See Sammy! I look hot!" Dean said with a grin.

"I meant Sam. You look like an idiot." Thankfully for Harry, a man chose to open the door at that moment.

"Good afternoon. I'm father Simmons, this is Father Frehley. We're new junior priests over at St. Augustine's. May we come in?" Dean asked. When the man nodded, the three walked into the house, glancing at the groups of mourners.

"We're very sorry for your loss." Sam told the man as he closed the door behind them.

"It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed." Dean told him softly, Harry sniggering behind the two.

"Look, if you wanna pitch your whole Lord-has-a-plan thing, fine. But don't pitch it to me. My brother is dead." The man told them bitterly, as a woman walked over to them after having clearly overheard them.

"Roger, please." The woman came over to them, placing a calming hand onto Roger's shoulder.

"Excuse me." Roger said, and left the small group making Harry stick his tongue out at his back.

"I'm sorry about my brother-in-law. He's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?"

"That'd be great. We are very sorry for you loss Ms Miller." Dean added, almost as an after thought, making both Harry and Sam roll their eyes.

"She looks a bit like one of the aunts in _Sabrina the Teenage Witch_, don't you think?" Harry asked, as Ms Miller turned to lead them into the kitchen, making Dean's lips twitch as Sam frowned at him.

"It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now." Ms Miller said as she handed them both a cup of coffee.

"Or course, we are all God's children." Dean said, making Harry snigger as he dipped his fingers into Sam's coffee, much to Sam's annoyance. Sam looked at Dean strangely. Ms Miller walked away as another mourner grabbed her attention and Dean used her distraction to grab a mini hot dog from the platter and ate it. Sam scoffed whilst Harry looked at the food mournfully. "What?"

"Just tone it down a little bit, Father." Sam told him just as Ms Miller returned and sat down on the sofa next to Dean.

"So, Ms Miller, did you husband have a history of depression?" Dean asked, spraying food out of his mouth much to Harry and Sam's disgust.

"Nothing like that. We had our ups and downs, like everyone. But we were happy." Ms Miller told them, starting to sob into a handkerchief. "I just don't understand how Jim could do something like that."

"I'm sorry you had to find him like that." Sam said sympathetically, whilst also keeping an eye on a now bored Harry.

"Actually, our son, Max – he was the one who found him." Ms Miller said, pointing to a depressed teenage boy sitting alone in the corner of another room.

"To the son!" Harry stated dramatically, grinning at Sam.

"Do you mind if maybe I go talk to him?" Sam asked, much to Harry's happiness.

"Oh, thank you, Father." Ms Miller exclaimed. Sam smiled and nodded at her and then followed Harry to Max in the dining room.

"Max? Hey, I'm Sam."

"Hi. What are you doing over here?" Max asked sullenly, making Harry stick his tongue out at him.

"I just came over to speak to you for a bit."

"About my father?" Max asked, making Harry narrow his eyes at him, not that Sam noticed.

"Yeah. What was your dad like?" Sam asked gently.

"Just a normal dad." Max told him sadly, making Harry roll his eyes.

"Yeah? And you live at home now?"

"Yeah. I'm tryin' to save up for school, but it's hard."

"So, when you found your dad..." Sam asked hesitantly.

"Smooth, Father." Harry told him, sitting down on the arm of Sam's chair.

"I woke up. I heard the engine running. I don't know why he did it." Max told him with a small sniffle.

"He didn't do it though did he? Tell him Sam!" Harry said, nudging Sam gently, much to Sam's disapproval.

"I know it's rough. Losing a parent. Especially when you don't have all the answers." Sam told him, making Harry scoff.

"Try having all the answers." Sam sighed when Max stood up and walked back into the kitchen, leaving Sam and Harry alone.

"Shall we go find Dean?" Harry asked, blowing a strand of hair out of his face as he turned to look at Sam. Sam nodded and stood up, leading the way upstairs.

They found Dean sneaking around upstairs with an infrared thermal scanner, checking each of the rooms. He obviously heard them coming as he suddenly stood up straight, hiding the scanner behind his back, which only made Harry snigger.

"Anything?" Sam asked him.

Dean shook his head and sighed, walking over to Sam at the stairs. "Zip." He told him as they made their way back downstairs.

"I note no one has asked me what I think." Harry stated with a put upon voice.

"What do you think then?" Dean asked him, making Harry wrinkle his nose when Sam rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't a ghost. I still stand by that it was a human. Other than that, I got nothing. Though the coffee wasn't that bad." He added, almost as an after thought.

--

Later they were all sitting in the motel room, Harry sitting on the table once again as he watched Dean, sitting on his own bed, cleaning all of his weapons.

"So what do you have?" Dean asked suddenly, making Sam look up and at him.

"A whole lot of nothing. Nothing bad has happened to the Miller house since it was built." Sam told him, looking back at his laptop screen.

"Told you it wasn't a ghost... or whatever." Harry said smugly.

"What about the land?" Dean asked, glaring at Harry, who stuck his tongue out at him.

"Will you two grow up? And no, no graveyards, battlefields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property." Sam told them, ignoring the hurt look both of them were shooting him.

"Hey, man, I told you I searched that house up and down. There were no cold spots, no sulphur scent, nada." Dean told him, placing his gun carefully down on the bed.

"Wouldn't that suggest that, oh! A human was involved!" Harry asked, faking astonishment and only getting glares from the Winchester brothers for his efforts.

"And the family said everything was normal?" Sam asked Dean, choosing to ignore Harry.

"Well, I mean, if there was a demon or a poltergeist in there, don't you think somebody would've noticed something? I used the infrared thermal scanner, man there was nothing." Dean told him, taking Sam's lead in ignoring their irritating follower.

"You know, I know you can hear me." Harry said stroppily, huffing and then losing his balance and nearly falling off the table.

"So, what, you think Jim Miller killed himself? And my dream was just some sort of freakish coincidence?"

"I don't know. But I'm pretty sure that there's nothing supernatural about that house." Dean told him, shrugging.

"Yeah." Sam said, grimacing as he massaged his temples. Harry watched him closely with narrowed eyes. "Well, you know, maybe, uh – maybe it has nothing to do with the house. Maybe, it's just, uh – gosh – maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way." Sam said stumbling slightly before clutching his head in pain. Harry slid off the table and ran over to him, beating Dean to it, and hovering around Sam.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean asked, frowning at the pair.

"Yeah – my head." Sam suddenly screamed in pain, much to the shock of both Harry and Dean, as they watched him gasp and fall to the floor on his knees.

Harry dropped to the ground with him, panicking slightly as he watched Sam writhe in pain on the floor.

"Sam? Hey. Hey! What's going on? Talk to me!" Dean called to him, moving off his bed and to the pair on the floor.

"Help him! Help him!" Harry said panicking, as he gently placed Sam's head in his lap as Dean moved Sam so that he was lying more comfortably on the floor.

"My head!" Sam groaned, clutching at his head in Harry's lap.

"Sam?"

"You're getting a vision!" Harry exclaimed, finally settling and placing his hands on either side of Sam's face. He then leant down and placed a gently kiss on Sam's forehead. Dean watched the two, hovering behind Harry, he was concerned about his younger brother, but he didn't stop Harry from doing what was clearly helping to calm Sam down.

Sam suddenly gasped and sat up, nearly head butting Harry. "It's happening again. Something gonna kill Roger Miller." Sam panicked, struggling to get up off the floor. Harry and Dean helped him to stand and then they all quickly got up and ran to the car.

As they got in the car, Sam took out his phone and dialled a number, Dean pulled away form the motel as Sam spoke to someone on the other end of the phone. "Roger Miller. No, no, just the address please. Okay. Thanks." Sam told them before hanging up and turning to look at Dean.

"Well?"

"450 West Grove, Apartment 1120." Sam told him. Dean nodded and turned his attention back to the driving.

"You okay?" Dean asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Yeah."

"If you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over, you know, 'cause the upholstery–" Dean faded off, still refusing to look at Sam, much to the amusement of Harry.

"I'm fine." Sam ground out.

"Alright."

"Just drive." Sam told him, looking stressed.

Alright." Dean said, Sam sighed as Harry just sat in the back, silently observing the two brothers.

"Dean, I'm scared, man. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seein' things when I'm awake? And these visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful." Sam told him, making Harry glance at him sympathetically.

"I can empathise with you there. Voldiebear's visions felt like my head was splitting in two. That was before I felt all the curses." Harry said musingly.

"I can't answer your questions Sammy, but I do know we'll figure it out, okay? We face the unexplainable every single day, this is just another thing." Dean told his reassuringly.

"No. It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out." Sam asked him, Harry shifting in the backseat, still silently watching the two brothers. If anyone had asked him, he would have admitted quite honestly, that he wanted to see how siblings, other than the Weasley's interacted with one another.

"This doesn't freak me out." And with that statement, Harry's respect of Dean went up.

--

They got to Roger Miller's apartment just in time to see Roger carrying a bag of groceries. Dean pulled up the car beside him and opened his window.

"Hey, Roger!" Sam called leaning over Dean.

"Hey, hold up a second." Dean called after the man, who started to walk a little faster at seeing his stalkers.

"You know, I'd have cursed you by now." Harry pointed out, making Sam glance at him questioningly. Harry just shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

"What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me alone." Roger told them, making Harry giggle in the back.

Dean growled under his breath and pulled the car up at the curb. Sam and Dean both climbed out the car and ran after Roger who was entering the apartment building.

"Please! Hey Roger, we're tryin' to help! Please! Hey! Hey, hey!" Sam pleaded, watching helplessly as Roger shut and locked the door behind him.

"I don't want your help." Roger yelled through the glass and then walked away. Harry watched from beside the car as the brothers futilely tried to get the man's attention.

"We're not priests! You've gotta listen to us!" Sam yelled after the man, who didn't even acknowledge them

"You know, I'd just let him die. Becky will be angry if we don't. He doesn't deserve your help anyway." Harry shouted at them, making them both turn around and glare at him.

"Roger, you're in danger! Come on! Come on!" Dean yelled at the man, before stepping away from the door and angrily kicking at the ground when Roger ignored him and walked up the stairs to his apartment.

"Come on!" Sam told him, and Dean followed him around the side of the apartment building which was blocked by a gate. Harry watched them go, and the shrugged before deciding it wasn't worth it and staying by the car.

"Hey Harry. Hank told me that you had finally gotten free. We all tried to find someway of helping you." A woman, who looked to be in her mid thirties with white skin and hair, and dark, almost black eyes, walked over to where Harry was leaning against the Impala.

"Hey Becky. My travelling companions are trying to save your reap." Harry told the Reaper in a bored tone.

"Ah, did you not tell them it was futile?"

"Didn't want to ruin their fun." Harry said with a shrug.

"Ah, fair enough. Well I had better be off. Souls to reap and all." Becky told him with a put upon sigh. Harry grinned and waved her off, then went back to waiting for the Winchester's.

He didn't have to wait for long. He felt the soul passing and then turned around, knowing that within a couple of minutes, the two brothers would be heading back to the car, and him.

"I'm tellin' you, there was nothing in there. There's no signs either, just like the Miller's house." Harry heard Dean telling Sam as they made their way back to the car.

"I saw something in the vision, like a dark shape. Something was stalking Roger." Sam told him insistently.

"Well, whatever it was, we can be sure it' not connected to their house." Dean told him, Harry watched them get closer and couldn't help but wonder how Roger had died.

"No, it's connected to the family itself. So, what do you think we got? A vengeful spirit?" Sam asked, stopping at the car and waiting for Harry to climb into the back.

"I told you I think it's a human. So how did Roger die? Was it gory? Lot's of blood?" Harry asked eagerly. Dean looked over his shoulder at Harry in disgust.

"That's just wrong. Back to the vengeful spirit theory, it could be possible. There's a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow 'em for years."

"Banshees." Sam said grmily.

"Oh now. I've known a couple of Banshees. They happen to be very nice. Once you get past the screaming thing of course." Harry told them, gaining himself a funny look from both brothers.

"Yeah sure. Anyway, it's basically like a curse. So, maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy. Something curse-worthy."

"I don't think it's a curse."

"Okay, you probably know quite a bit about curses, but even you can't deny that something is out for revenge. And the men in their family are dying. Hey, do you think Max is in danger?" Sam asked suddenly, making Harry shrug as Dean frowned.

"Let's figure it out before he is." Dean told him firmly, starting the car.

"Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people."

"What's that?"

"Both our families are cursed."

Harry scoffed, getting the attention of the brothers. "You think your family's cursed. I'm stuck as an out of business Reaper for the rest of my ever immortal life, or at least until someone sees the 'real' me. Which is bull, seeing as you two seem to be the only ones who can actually see me at all. Yeah, you're definitely cursed. Welcome to the dark side." Harry told him dryly, making Sam look at him softly and Dean chuckle before quickly covering it with a laugh.

"Our family's not cursed. We just... had our dark spots." Dean said once he stopped coughing, making Sam laugh.

"Our dark spots are pretty dark."

"This is nothing compared to having to kill a man at eleven, then a huge snake at twelve and help a convicted murderer escape the ministry at thirteen." Harry mumbled, making both brothers shift in their seat to stare at the Reaper in the back seat.

"You are so telling us your past at some point." Dean told him, before turning back around and pulling away from the apartment.

--

The next day, Sam and Dean were back at the Miller's house sitting in the living room dressed, once again, as ministers. They were talking to Max once again, though Ms Miller was no where to be seen, though according the ever nosy Reaper, Harry, she was upstairs in bed.

"My mom's resting. She's pretty wrecked." Max told them at Sam's enquiry.

"Of course." Dean nodded in understanding as Sam took a sip of his coffee.

"All these people kept coming with, like, casseroles. I finally had to tell them all to go away." Max said, gesturing to the dining room table, which is covered with trays casserole. "You know, 'cause nothing says 'I'm sorry' like a tuna casserole." Max said, laughing hollowly.

"How you holdin' up?" Sam asked him

"I'm okay."

"Your dad and uncle were close?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out al the time when I was little."

"But not much lately?"

"No, it's not that. It's just – we used to be neighbours when I was a kid. And we lived across town in this house, and Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time." Max told them.

"Right. So, how was it in that house when you were a kid?"

"It was fine. Why?"

"All good memories? Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe." Dean asked. Harry watched shrewdly as Max became more flustered at the questioning.

"Maybe you should stop this line of questioning." Harry told Dean, just to be ignored.

"What do you – why do you ask?" Max asked them, fidgeting in his seat.

"Just a question." Dean told him, waving Max's worries away.

"No. There was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy." Max said unconvincingly to Harry at least.

"Good. That's good. Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off." Dean said, standing up and shaking Max's hand.

"Right. Thanks." Sam agreed, smiling at Max as Max stood up with them.

"Yeah." Max said, leading them to the door and then closing it behind them once they left.

Outside, the three walked back to the car, discussing Max, as they occasionally threw glances over their shoulder.

"Nobody's family is totally normal and happy. Did you see when he was talkin' about his old house?"

"Sounded scared." Sam said. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, Max isn't tellin' us everything. I say we go find the old neighbourhood, and find out what life was really like at the Miller's." Dean said, as they got into the car.

--

They went to the neighbourhood that the Miller's used to live in to find out the answers to their questions. They found a neighbour and decided to question him.

"Have you lived in the neighbourhood very long?" Sam asked him as they walked over to him.

"Yeah, almost twenty years now. It's nice and quiet. Why, you lookin' to buy?"

"No, no, actually, we were just wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street, I believe." Sam told the man, pointing to the house that he believed the Miller's lived in.

"Yeah, the Millers. They had a little boy named Max."

"Right." Sam agreed, nodding. The neighbour glanced at the house sadly and then turned back to the brothers.

"Yeah, I remember. The brother had the place next door. So uh, what's this about? That poor kid okay?" The man asked. Harry narrowed his eyes at the man and then looked at Sam.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, in my life, I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean, I'd hear Mr. Miller yellin' and throwin' things clear across the street. He was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar out of Max. Bruises – broke his arm two times that I know of." The man told them, confirming the thoughts Harry was having about Max's childhood.

"And this was going on regularly?"

"Practically every day. In fact, that thug of a bother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy, but the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, never lifted a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times, never did any good." The man said sadly, shaking his head.

"Now, you said stepmother." Dean said curiously.

"I think his real mom died. Some sort of accident – a car accident, I think." The man looked at Sam who was clutching his head and breathing sharply. Harry was holding him, trying to take the pain away. "Are you okay, there?"

"Yeah." Sam said through gritted teeth.

"Thanks for your time." Dean said to the man, moving to the other side of Sam and letting him lean against him.

"Yeah, thank you." Sam said, gasping softly. Dean and Harry helped to get Sam back to the car, but Sam stopped and stared ahead at nothing in horror.

"Vision again." Harry said, massaging Sam's temples.

Dean nodded and then slowly lead Sam to the car and, with the help of Harry, managed to place Sam inside it.

After both Dean and Harry had gotten into the car, Dean pulled away from the neighbourhood. "Back to the motel?" Dean asked Harry, who was fussing over a practically comatose Sam.

"I think that might be the best idea." Harry agreed.

Sam chose that moment to come back into coherency, making Harry jump back as though burnt. "Max is doing it. Everything I've been seeing."

"You sure about this?"

"Am I allowed to say I told you so? I mean, I did say it was a human."

"No, and yeah, that's what I saw."

"How's he pullin' it off?"

"I don't know. It looked like telekinesis."

"So, he's psychic? He's a spoon-bender?" Dean asked incredulously, making Harry snigger.

"I didn't even realise it, but this whole time he was there. He was outside of the garage when his dad died, he was in the apartment when his uncle died. These visions, this whole time, wasn't connected to the Millers, I was connecting to Max. The thing I don't get is why, man? I guess because we're so alike?"

"What are you talking about? The kid is nothing like you." Harry asked, Dean nodding his agreement with Harry.

"Well, we both have psychic abilities. We're both-"

"Both what? Sam, Max is a monster. He's already killed two people, and now he's gunnin' for a third." Dean said, not noticing the flinch from Harry, who figured he would be seen as less than human in Dean's eyes once he heard of his history. Of course, the fact that he _isn't_ human anymore might count against him more.

"Well with what he went through – the beatings. To want revenge on those people, I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that insane." Sam said nervously.

"Yeah, but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family." Dean told him, not noticing Harry roll his eyes behind him.

"Dean-"

"He's no different than anything else we've hunted. Alright, we've gotta end him." Dean said as he pulled the car over and shut the engine off.

"If you kill him, then really, you're no better than him." Harry pointed out, smiling innocently when Dean glared at him. The three got out of the car and then turned when someone shouted Harry's name.

Becky was talking towards them, grinning inanely and sending a smirk at Sam when she caught up with them.

"S'up Becky?" Harry asked, looking at his fellow Reaper curiously. She looked at him meaningfully, making Harry just look confused, before realising what she wanted. "Oh! Becky, this is Sam and Dean Winchester. Sam, Dean, this is Becky a Reaper. She likes the gossip behind murders." Harry added sagely, nodding.

"Nice to meet you. Can't stay long. A housewife has just caught her husband in bed with his secretary. His _male_ secretary. I just came to give you this. Hank as a job for you." Becky said, handing him a post-it note with a name on it and the time. Harry glanced at it before placing it in his pocket quickly before either brother could see it.

"Oh right, well thanks, and er – good luck on the murder."

"Oh it should be good! Speak to you later!" Becky said with a grin and then she disappeared.

"So who is it? I thought you weren't working anymore?" Dean asked with a frown.

"So did I." Harry admitted absently, looking at the house in front of them. "Come on then, people see, souls to reap!"

Sam and Dean stared at each other for a long minute before both shrugging and following the suddenly more cheerful Reaper to the Miller's house.

"We're not gonna kill Max." Sam told both Dean and Harry when they got to the front door. Harry shrugged but Dean scowled at his brother.

"Then what? I hand him over to the cops and say, 'lock him up officer, he kills with the power of his mind.'" Dean said dryly, Harry snickered into his hand, as Sam glared at both of them.

"Forget it. No way, man." Sam said stubbornly, making Dean glower and Harry to just sigh and consider ringing to doorbell for them.

"Sam-"

"Dean. He's a person. We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one?" Sam asked Dean. Harry mocked gagged behind Sam then sighed loudly.

"Alright, fine. But I'm not lettin' him hurt anybody else." Dean said, showing Sam the gun he had placed at the small of his back, tucked into his jeans.

"Um... Maybe we should go round the back." Harry suggested, looking at his watch.

"Who's name do you have on your note?" Dean asked curiously, following Harry as he lead them into the back garden.

"It is someone from the house." Harry said mysteriously, refusing to answer any more questions.

They walked around the side of the house, only to hear an argument coming from the kitchen. Sam glanced at the other two before running to the door and bursting into the kitchen, the other two following closely behind.

"Fathers?" Ms Miller looked at them n confusion, tears staining her face.

"What are you doing here?" Max asked, frowning at the two men in the kitchen. Harry nibbled on his lip and glanced up at the clock in the kitchen.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt." Dean said uncomfortably.

"Max, could we, uh – could we talk to you outside for just one second?"

"About what?" Max asked suspiciously.

"It's – it's private. I wouldn't wanna bother your mother with it. We won't be long at all, though. I promise." Sam told him soothingly. Max glanced at his stepmother before nodding slowly in agreement.

"Okay."

"Great." Sam said with a relieved sigh, Max walked to Sam and Dean. Dean opened the door to walk out when suddenly the handle was ripped out of his hands as the door slammed shut, along with all the windows in the house.

"Oh dear. Reegan's pissed." Harry said bluntly, making Dean snort even with the severity of the situation.

"You're not priests!" Max exclaimed, pointing at the two brothers. Dean grumbled under his breath before taking the gun out and pointing it at Max. However, the gun was soon ripped from Dean's grasp and Max picked it up from where it fell on the floor. He pointed the gun at Sam and Dean. Harry watched all this with detachment from the where he was leaning on the wall, occasionally glancing at his watch.

"Max, what's happening?" Ms Miller asked, staring at the stalemate happening in the hallway.

"Shut up!" Max yelled, not taking the gun away from Sam and Dean.

"What are you doing?!" Ms Miller asked before Max jerked his head and his stepmother was thrown into the kitchen counter and then collapsing on the floor.

"I said shut up!"

"Max, calm down." Sam said gently, staring at the gun still pointed at him and Dean.

"Who are you?"

"We just wanna talk to you."

"Yeah, right, that's why you brought this!" Max said, shaking the gun to get his point across, before pointing it at the two brothers once again. Harry continued to watch the drama unfolding, glancing at the time more often as it neared his reap.

"That was a mistake, alright? So was lying about who we were, but no more lying, Max, okay? Just, please – just hear me out." Sam pleaded.

"About what?"

"I saw you do it. I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened." Sam told him, Harry noticed Ms Miller slowly start to sit herself up from the floor.

"What?"

"I'm having visions, Max. About you." Sam told him, Harry couldn't help but think about how bizarre his life had turned since finding out about the wizarding world when he was eleven.

"You're crazy."

"So, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?" Sam pointed to his eye, "Right here? Is it that hard to believe Max? Look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here, alright? I think I'm here to help you."

"No on can help me!"

"Let me try. We'll just talk. Me and you. We'll get Dean and Alice out of here." Sam old him soothingly.

"Nuh-uh. No way." Dean said shaking his head. Sam held up a finger to silence him and the light fixture above them starting to shake.

"Nobody leaves this house!" Max yelled, the gun shaking slightly in his hand.

"And nobody has to, alright? They'll just – they'll just go upstairs."

"Sam, I'm not leavin' you alone with him."

"You know, I can tell you that of everyone in this room, Sam is not on that post-it note." Harry told Dean, pushing himself away from the wall and placing himself in between Sam and the gun, looking at Dean over his shoulder.

"Yes you are." Sam said to Dean, glancing briefly at Harry. "Look, Max, you're in charge her, alright? We all know that. No one's gonna do anything that you don't want to, but I'm talkin' five minutes here, man."

"Sam." Sam held up his finger again to silence Dean.

"Five minutes." Max agreed and the light fixture stopped shaking. "Go." Dean moved quickly into the kitchen and helped Ms Miller sit up properly and led her to a chair. Harry followed Sam and Max into the living room and stood behind Sam as the two humans sat on sofas facing one another. On the coffee table a letter opener moved so that it was standing up right.

"Look, I can't begin to understand what you went through." Sam admitted, looking at Max.

"That's right, you can't." Max told him, eyes fixed on the letter opener.

"Max, this has to stop."

"It will. After my stepmother."

"No. You need to let her go."

"Why?" Max asked as the letter opener began to spin on its tip.

"Did she beat you?"

"No. But she never tried to save me, she's a part of it too."

"Look, what they did to you, what they all did to you, growing up – they deserve to be punished."

"Growing up?" Max asked incredulously. "Try last week." He stood up and raised his shirt. There were large bruises on his stomach and ribs, along with multiple cuts. "My dad still hit me, just in places people wouldn't see it. Old habits die hard, I guess." He told Sam as he sat back down.

Sam sat in the chair stunned, "I'm sorry." The letter opener on the table began to spin faster.

"When I first found out I could move things, it was a gift. My whole life I was helpless. But now I had this. So, last week, Dad gets drunk – first time in a long time. And he beats me to hell – first time in a long time. And then I knew what I had to do."

"Why didn't you just leave?" Sam asked. He jumped suddenly when the letter opener dropped onto the table.

"It wasn't about getting away – just knowing that they's still be out there. It was about not being afraid. When my dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?"

"No." Sam admitted softly.

"He blamed me for everything. For his job, for his life, for my mom's death."

"Why would he blame you for your mom's death?" Sam asked, confused.

"Because she did in my nursery. While I was asleep in my crib." Sam's eyes widened, whilst Harry stood up straight and looked at the two men on the sofas with narrowed eyes.

"She died in your nursery?"

"Yeah. There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling." Sam looked at Max in shock as Harry gasped and then glanced at Sam's reaction before wincing.

"Shit. I'm going to see if Dean is okay." Harry said hurriedly before leaving the room and heading into the kitchen.

"Why did you leave Sammy on his own?" Dean asked Harry, much to Ms Miller's confusion.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Huh? Oh, no one." Dean said, looking at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"He's fine Dean. I just had to leave."

"Well then Ms Miller. Shall we go and get you cleaned up?" Dean asked, helping Ms Miller stand up and then leading her upstairs and then to the master bedroom. He sat her down on the bed and then quickly went to grab a damp washcloth from the bathroom.

"Are you feeling okay?" Dean asked her, once he came back into the bedroom and placed the cloth onto her forehead.

Harry glanced at the clock on the bedside table and then looked over at the door as it opened, and Max walked in, closing the door behind him. Dean stood up and walked towards Max before he was flung across the room by a seemingly invisible force and then hit the wall and fell to the ground. Max glanced at Dean and pulled out the gun.

"Max!" Ms Miller shouted. Max let go of the gun, and it hovered in the air. "No Max." Dean moved on the floor but the gun moved with him to continue pointing at him. Harry nibbled on his lip and glanced at the clock again.

"Stay back. It's not about you."

"If you wanna kill her, you gotta go through me first." Dean said through gritted teeth, making Harry groan and step closer to the odd group.

"Okay." Max said with a grin, the trigger clicked just as the door was flung open and Sam burst into the room.

"No, don't! Don't! Please. Please, Max. Max, we can help you, alright? But this – what you're doing – it's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything." Max stared at Sam for moment before tilting his head.

"You're right." Harry watched Max and then glanced at the clock. He walked forward and stood behind Max, Sam and Dean stared at him in horror, before Harry brushed his hand down Max's arm. Max then pointed the gun towards himself and shot himself in the head. He fell to the ground, Harry stepping away from the body.

"I've got to go do something." Harry said quietly. He walked out of the room leaving the occupants of it staring at the body in horror. Harry walked through the house and then out the door and to the front yard.

"I killed myself? Is it over?" Max appeared next to him, and Harry smiled at him sadly.

"Yeah. It's over now Max. You get to rest now. You don't need to come back here. Go on. Move on. Follow the light and all that jazz." Harry said with a sad smile. They both looked down the street as the sounds of sirens came closer.

"What happens now?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I've never moved on." Harry said with a shrug.

"Never?"

"No, I died and became a Reaper. This is what I will be doing now for a long long time."

"Will you ever not be a Reaper?"

"Yeah. You only get a certain amount of souls to reap."

"Then what happens?"

"Then? Then you cease to be. Your soul is gone. It's no more. Once you have reaped your last soul you just disappear. Well unless you have a deal."

"Do you have a deal?"

"Yeah. It won't ever happen though. Look Max. Live past your childhood. I know what it's like to grow up like that. You're free now. If you don't move on, you'll come back. You don't want that Max."

"Why not?"

"You just don't. It will be somewhat similar to collecting your last reap without a deal." Harry said, the police cars and ambulance pulled up to the house and the officers ran through the two on the lawn.

"That was weird."

"Yep. Welcome to my world. So then Max? You gonna move on?"

"You know what? I think I am. Thank you. What is your name by the way?"

"Harry. I'm called Harry. If anyone up there, wherever it is you go once you die, asks about a Harry Potter, tell them I'm fine." Harry said with a sad smile. Max nodded and faded away.

--

Harry had gone back to the car to wait for the Winchester's, rather than go back to the house. He was waiting for a while, when finally the two left the house, talking to one another.

"I mean, yeah, maybe it we had gotten there twenty years earlier." Dean said as he opened the car door, glancing at Harry.

"Well I'll tell you one thing – we're lucky we had Dad." Sam said, surprising Dean and confusing Harry.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Well, he could've gone a whole 'nother way after Mom. A little more tequila, a little less demon-hunting, and we would've had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay – thanks to him."

"All things considered." Dean conceded after a brief pause. Harry glanced at the two and then they all climbed into the car.

--

Once they were back at the motel and preparing to leave, Sam turned and faced Dean, making Harry look up from where he was sitting once more, on the table.

"Dean, I've been thinking."

"Well, that's never a good thing."

"I'm serious. I've been thinking – why would this demon, or whatever it is, why would it kill Mom and Jessica and Max's mother, you know, what does it want?"

"No idea."

"Well, you think maybe it was after us? After Max and me?"

"Why would you think that?" Dean asked, Harry watched the two silently from his perch on the table.

"I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know? Maybe it was after us for some reason." Sam explained, making Dean stop packing and look at his little brother. Harry had to inane urge to coo at the brotherly moment happening. Thankfully, he curbed the urge.

"Sam, if it wanted you, it would've just taken you, okay? This is not your fault. It's not about you."

"Then what is it about?"

"It's about that damn thing that did this to our family. The thing that we're gonna find, the thing that we're gonna kill. And that's all."

"Actually, there's, uh, somethin' else too."

"Oh jeez, what?"

"When Max locked me in that closet, that big cabinet against the door – I moved it."

Dean laughed and punched Sam's shoulder. "You've got a little bit more upper body strength than I give you credit for."

"No, man, I moved it – like Max."

"Oh. Right."

"Yeah."

Dean looked around him and then grabbed a spoon and held it up, much to Harry's amusement. "Bend this."

"I can't turn it on and off Dean." Sam said, glaring at his brother. Harry chuckled and then slapped his hand over his mouth when it got the attention of the brother's.

"So. I'm gonna give you a choice." Dean said, narrowing his eyes at the nervous Reaper and putting the spoon down.

"Oh? You know, I've never liked choices."

"Yeah, well this is gonna be another that you aren't gonna like." Dean said. Sam frowned at him and took a step closer to Harry.

"Dean..."

"No Sam. Harry, you have a choice, you either leave us here and we call it an end, and if we ever bump into one another, then we'll get rid of you somehow."

"That's not a choice. A choice is two options. That was one." Harry pointed out quietly, refusing to look up from where he was picking at the table.

"_Or_ you can tell us who you are. _What _you were before you became a Reaper. You don't have to tell us everything now. But we need to know."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Dean asked, frowning at Harry who was still looking down at the table.

"Why do you need to know?"

"Because, you seem to know a lot about us, yet we know nothing about you. Hardly seems fair." Dean stated, Sam frowned at his brother and then looked at Harry curiously.

"Fine. You want to know about me? Fine. I'll tell you things, but not all at once. I will start with how I became a Reaper though."

"Why there?"

"Because. I figured I'd start at the end of my life, as opposed to the beginning."

"Okay. Why did you become a Reaper?" Sam asked quietly, grabbing a chair and sitting next to the table.

"Hank approached me when I was fifteen. I had a... task ahead of me, which pretty much guaranteed my death. He offered me a way out."

"What task?"

"I had to kill someone. However, we were linked together in a way that meant I had to die in order for him to die. It was a tough realisation to make at fifteen. Hank gave me a knife to use when I killed him. And I had to promise my soul to him. When I was seventeen, the moment came and I destroyed his soul, whilst giving my own to Death by killing myself with the knife he gave me. I died at seventeen in front of friends and family. They all thought I had killed myself to escape my fate.

"Thankfully Hank went and told the ones that mattered to me that I was okay and that I didn't kill myself to run away. Of course, the corpse of my rival was enough hint that I didn't leave them with a maniac."

"Okay. You were seventeen when you died?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Yep."

"So you've been a Reaper since you were seventeen? That's kinda sad." Sam said, looking at the table where Harry was picking at some crud on it.

"Yep. It's not so bad though. My morals seemed to have died with my soul though. I'm sorry I took Max's soul, but you have to understand that it's my duty. He was going to kill himself anyway. There was nothing either of you could have done to stop it. However, the difference is, if I wasn't there, then he would have almost definitely come back as a vengeful spirit."

"Fine. We'll accept that. You can come along with us. I reserve the right to just abandon your ass wherever we happen to be the moment you step out of line." Dean said, staring hard at Harry, who still refused to look up.

"Sure."

"So then, I know where we can go next." Dean said with a grin.

"Where?"

"Vegas baby!"

**A/N – Do you have any idea how difficult this chapter was to write? Argh! There were no places to put Harry into it without ruining the whole damn episode! Hopefully I managed it though, not much Harry dialogue in it though, well until the end anyway. I dunno. Thank you everyone who reviewed the last chapter! **


	5. The Benders

Chapter Four – The Benders 

Harry wondered if the two Winchesters dressing up as sheriffs was possibly the strangest thing he had ever witnessed, watching the two talk to the McKay family in regards to a strange noise the son had heard. Then he remembered the minister outfits.

"I know you're just doing your job, but the police have been here all week already. I don't see why we have to go though this again. The more he tells the story, the more he believes it's true." Mrs McKay said, running a hand through her sons hair.

"Mrs McKay, we know you spoke with the local authorities."

"But, uh, this seems like a matter for the state police, so..." Dean trailed off, Harry smirked and stood next to Sam.

"Don't worry about how crazy it sounds, Evan. You just tell us what you saw." Sam said, posing his pen above his notebook as he looked at the young boy

"I was up late, watching TV. When I heard this weird noise." The boy, Evan told them nervously.

"What did it sound like?"

"It sounded like... a monster." Evan told them, glancing at his mother, who had a look of disbelief on her face.

"Tell the officers what you were watching on TV." Mrs McKay told her son, Harry grinned and moved closer to the group, looking over Dean's shoulder at what he had wrote.

"The mother's overbearing and the kid has an over-active imagination? Bit harsh Dean." Harry read out, looking up at Dean and tuting.

"Godzilla Vs. Mothra." Evan admitted sheepishly, Dean smiled and became excited.

"That's my favourite Godzilla movie. It's so much better than the original, huh?"

"Totally." Evan agreed, smiling widely.

"Yeah." Dean nodded towards Sam, much to Harry's curiosity. "He likes the remake."

"Yuck." Sam glared at Dean, whilst Harry hmmed and leant against Sam.

"I kinda preferred the remake. Those baby Godzilla's were cute! I tried to make a pet version, but I had to kill it when it tried to eat me. Luna said that it was bad blood I had used. We were going to try and make another one after the war." Harry stopped talking when he noticed the looks Dean and Sam were sending him.

"Evan, did you see what this thing was?" Sam asked, ignoring Harry who was now sulking.

"No. But I saw it grab Mr Jenkins. It pulled him underneath the car." Evan said earnestly, Harry also detected a hint of excitement in his voice. Sadistic little brat.

"Then what?" Sam asked, risking a glance at Harry who had wandered nearer to Dean, whistling innocently.

"It took him away. I heard the monster leaving. It made this really scary sound."

"Yeah, that's what Skippy did." Harry said sagely, nodding. Sam glanced at Harry as though he was completely insane before shaking his head and looking back at his notebook, much to Evan's mothers confusion.

"Skippy?" Dean asked incredulously, much to the McKay's confusion. The two looked at him strangely as Dean blushed, realising he had spoken aloud.

"Who's Skippy officer?" Mrs McKay asked, as Harry told him.

"Yeah, that's what I called my mini-Zilla. I used to watch the TV show when I was a kid. Well, when I say I watched it, I mean I listened to it. Through the door, you know? I liked the song." Harry told him, then proceeded to hum the Skippy theme tune.

"What did it sound like Evan?" Sam asked, dragging the McKay's attention away from his now insane brother.

"Like this... whining growl." Evan told him. Sam and Dean exchanged a glance and Sam made a note in his notebook.

"Thanks for your time." Sam said with a smile, as he and Dean made their way out of the small apartment. Harry followed after them, cheerfully waving to the mortals that couldn't actually see him.

--

Later that evening, they had decided to discuss their findings at the local bar, much to Harry's confusion, as he was British, and he could have sworn they were called pubs. He also couldn't understand why. He couldn't get drunk, even when he was alive. Hank knows he'd tried. So Harry was sitting at a table, discreetly peeling the beer-mats as Sam looked through the research on his computer and Dean played darts.

"So, local police have now ruled out foul play. Apparently, there are worse signs of a struggle." Sam told Dean, because, let's be honest, he wasn't talking to Harry. Harry sighed and grabbed another beer-mat to decimate.

"Well, they could be right, it could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn't our kind of gig."

"Yeah, maybe not. Except for this – dad marked this area, Dean." Sam told him, opening their fathers journal to the right page and showing Dean. "Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker."

"Why would he even do that?" Dean asked, taking the darts out of the board and starting again.

"Well, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night. Grabs people, then vanishes. He found this too – this county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state."

"I bet Britain in the nineties had more." Harry stated musingly, drawing pictures in the spilt beer on the table, having run out of beer-mats.

"Huh? Why?" Dean asked, taking a drink of his beer and looking at Harry curiously.

"Oh, the guy I was fated to kill, he liked to kill people for sport. His followers got props for originality and all that. Though he did prefer to just torture them with _Crucio_. Stung like a bitch."

"Er... Well it's weird that this place is missing a lot of people." Dean said, glancing at Harry before turning back to Sam.

"Yeah."

"Don't phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds? Jenkins was taken from a parking lot."

"Well, there are all kinds. You know, Springhill Jacks, Phantom Gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime. Look, Dean, I don't know if this is our kind of gig either."

"It isn't a grindylow or a Red Cap." Harry muttered, looking at the list Sam had managed to make.

"Huh? How come?"

"Grindylows are water-dwelling and Red Caps generally prefer marshes and bogs. Or at least fog. They like fog. Don't know why. Have a whale of a time when it's foggy. Especially when they are in a bog _and_ it's foggy. Little evil buggers then." Harry added with a scowl.

"Right. Well, I think we should ask around more tomorrow." Dean told him as he stood up and went to the bar.

"Hey Harry."

"Hmm? You know, that man now thinks you're talking to yourself." Harry said, grinning widely as he nodded at the man in the table next to them staring at Sam strangely.

"Yeah, so what? I want to ask a favour."

"Sure."

"Keep an eye of Dean. I don't care what you do, just watch over him. I've got a bad feeling." Sam said, glancing over at Dean, who was leaning on the bar, chatting a woman up.

"What about you?" Harry asked, nibbling on his lip nervously and wishing he _could_ get drunk.

"I don't matter. Please Harry, promise me." Sam pleaded, making Harry shift in his seat and the man one table over stand up and leave, muttering about lunatics.

"Fine. I'll protect Dean. How ironic, a Reaper striving to keep a human alive." Harry muttered, blushing lightly when Sam beamed at him happily.

"Hey hey, what are you smiling at? I didn't get a number." Dean said, sticking his lower lip out.

"Right. I saw a motel about five miles back." Sam said, taking his wallet out and standing up.

"Whoa, whoa, easy. Let's have another round."

"We should get an early start." Sam said with a frown.

"Yeah, you really know how to have fun, don't you, Grandma?" Sam smiled at Dean as he grumbled. "Alright, I'll meet you outside, I gotta take a leak." Dean told him as he gathered his coat and made his way to the back of the bar.

"Right, I'll take my research to the car, wait here for him." Sam said with a frown aimed at Harry. Harry sighed and nodded, leaning back in his chair as he watched Sam gather up his research and walk out of the pub.

Dean came out of the toilets after about five minutes, which made Harry question his bladder conditions, and wonder if Sam would have held it against him if Dean died because of a bladder infection.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked, walking over to Harry, which Harry would freely admit shocked him, as he figured Dean would have ignored him in the hopes of abandoning him.

"Outside, he told me to wait for you as he didn't trust you not to bring some strange woman back to the motel with you." Harry told him blandly, leaning on his hand, looking up at Dean.

"Huh, well come on, let's go and prove him wrong." Dean said with a frown at the door Sam had left through.

"Or he'll think I did my job." Harry stated lightly, jumping up from his seat and jauntily leading the way out of the pub.

Together they walked back to the car and noticed that Sam wasn't around it, so Dean, glancing at Harry and shrugging, opened the car to check if Sam was inside. Harry got a sinking sensation in his stomach and he glanced around him.

"Where is he?" Dean muttered to himself, though Harry heard him and began to feel ill.

"Er... Maybe he came back inside to see what was holding us up?" Harry asked weakly.

"Did you see him come back in?"

"No."

"Then he didn't come back in did he? Come on, we'll have a look around for him."

--

They had searched everywhere for Sam and in the end made their way wearily back to the bar they had started at. Harry glanced at Dean helplessly as he shook his head.

"Where is he? Hey, you guys been outside, around here in the last hour or so?" Dean asked a biker and his girlfriend urgently. They looked at Dean blandly, making Harry wonder how much they had drunk and shook their heads negatively. Dean walked away and looked at Harry, making Harry take a step away from the angry and worried brother.

"What do we do now?" Harry asked worriedly, looking at Dean nervously.

"We go to the police?"

"Pardon?" Harry asked, blinking at Dean.

"We got to the police."

"You know, I thought you said that. Aren't you a felon?"

"No!" Dean sputtered indignantly.

"Huh, you just look a little rough around the edges. Suppose you really can't judge a book by it's cover."

--

They found themselves being sent to the deputy of the creepy little town, who insisted that they call her Kathleen, the next day. Harry scowled as he followed the two humans to the small room Kathleen lead them to.

"So what can we do for you, Officer Washington?" Kathleen asked after looking at a fake police ID Dean had, making Harry frown at it suspiciously. Harry sighed and sat down on the table near Dean.

"I'm working a missing persons." Dean told her. Harry looked at her shrewdly, wondering how she was supposed to help them find Sam.

"I didn't know the Jenkins case was being covered by the state police." Kathleen admitted with a small frown.

"Oh, no. No, there's someone else. Actually it's my cousin. We were havin' a few last night at this bar down by the highway. And I haven't seen him since."

"Does your cousin have a drinking problem?" Kathleen asked, making Harry snort with laughter, despite the serious situation.

"Sam? Two beers and he's doin' karaoke. No, he wasn't drunk." Dean said with a small smile. Kathleen nodded and turned to the computer on her desk.

"Alright. What's his name?"

"Winchester. Sam Winchester." Dean told her, leaning forward in his seat to look at the screen. Harry glanced over Dean's shoulder, quickly leaning back though when the screen flickered briefly.

"Like the rifle?"

"Are all law official people things obsessed with guns?" Harry asked with a frown at the deputy.

"Like the rifle." Dean confirmed with a nod. Kathleen typed in the name and then looked over the police record brought up, clicking on Dean's link and bringing up his record.

"Samuel Winchester. So, you know that his brother, Dean Winchester, died in St. Louis. And, uh, was suspected of murder." Kathleen asked, reading the police record. Dean tried to look nonchalant, made somewhat harder by Harry's scandalised gasp.

"I knew you looked like a felon!" Harry said, pointing at Dean to make the impression last longer.

"Yeah, Dean. Kind of the black sheep of the family. Handsome though."

"Careful, you're head won't fit through the door on the way out." Harry warned, rolling his eyes.

"Uh-huh. Well, he's not showing up in any current field reports." Kathleen told him, typing on the computer and reading the results.

"Oh, I already have a lead. I saw a surveillance camera by the highway." Dean told her.

"Uh-huh. The county traffic cam?"

"Right. Yeah. I'm thinking the camera picked up whatever took him. Or, whoever." Dean added when Kathleen looked at him strangely.

"Well, I have access to the traffic am footage down at the county works department, but – well, anyhow, let's do this the right way." Kathleen said, standing up, making Harry jump out of her way quickly much to Dean's amusement, and getting some paperwork from a filing cabinet. "Why don't you fill out a missing persons report and sit tight over here?" She told Dean, handing him a clipboard.

"Officer, look, uh, he's family. I kind of – I kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let me go with you." Dean said pleadingly, Harry glanced up from where he was looking at the form.

"She's not going to let us go?! Is she _insane_?" Harry shrieked, making Dean wince slightly as he was right next to him.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that."

"She is! She's insane! We're trusting her with Sam's life?" Harry asked, trying to restrain himself not to attack the deputy.

"Well, tell me something. You county has its fair share of issing persons. Any of 'em come back? Sam's my responsibility. And he's comin' back. I'm bringin' him back." Dean told her, making both Harry and Kathleen stare at him in stunned silence.

--

Dean and Harry sat on a bench outside of the County Works Department waiting for Kathleen to get some results in searching for Sam.

"Do you think he's still alive?" Dean asked morosely.

"Definitely. He's alive. I'd know if he was dead." Harry said firmly, almost believing it himself. "Here she is. I can't believe she wasn't going to let us go." Harry said huffily as Kathleen came over to them, holding printouts of the camera footage in her hand.

Dean stood up to meet her, ignoring Harry, who sighed and stood up as well, trying to get a glimpse of the photos.

"Greg, I think we're got something." Kathleen told him, grinning and handing him the printouts. "These traffic cams take an image every three seconds, as part of the Amber Alert program. These images were all taken around the time that your cousin, Sam, disappeared." Kathleen explained as Dean looked through the photos.

"This really isn't what I'm looking for." Dean admitted, trying to find a photo in which he could at least identify the van that took his brother.

"Would it be bad to just _kill her_!!" Harry yelled in frustration, making Dean twitch almost imperceptibly.

"Just wait, wait – next one. This one was taken right after Sam left the bar. Look at the back end of that thing. Now look at the plates." Dean looked at the photos and then turned to the next one, which was a close-up of the license plates.

"Oh, the plates look new. It's probably stolen." Dean added unneeded. Harry rolled his eyes and fidgeted behind Dean.

"So whoever's driving that rust bucket must be involved." Kathleen told him smugly. Harry looked up when he heard an engine of a beat up van whining loudly as it passed by them and nudged Dean, pointing the van out to him.

"That the van, you think?"

"Hear that engine?"

"Yeah."

"Kind of a whining growl, isn't it?" Dean asked, looking at the van.

"Sure." Kathleen agreed. Dean and Harry stared at the van as it drove away in complete disbelief.

"I'll be damned." Dean muttered to himself.

--

Dean, Harry and Kathleen were all sitting in the sheriffs car, which took some getting into as Dean had to somehow manage to get Harry into the car as well without looking weird to Kathleen. He ended up with Harry practically sitting on his lap, much to Harry's amusement and Dean's consternation.

"Okay, the next traffic cam is fifty miles from here, and the pickup didn't pass that one, so..." Kathleen trailed off, searching around her as she slowed the car down.

"So, it must've pulled off somewhere. I didn't see any other roads here"

"Well a lot of these backwoods properties have their own private roads."

"Great." Dean huffed, annoyed and accidentally, though Harry believed otherwise, elbowing Harry.

"Ow! That hurt! Bony idiot." Harry huffed, noticing that Kathleen was looking at something that had come up on Kathleen's computer, which was occasionally flickering depending on how close Harry swayed to the machine. "Heads up." Harry muttered to Dean, making him look away from the window and at Kathleen.

"So, Gregory."

"Yeah?" Dean asked cautiously.

"Uh oh." Harry muttered, shifting slightly and making Dean wince.

"I ran your badge number. It's routine when we're working a case with state police. For accounting purposes and what have you."

"Mmhmm."

"Smooth Dean. James Bond you are not."

"And, uh, they just got back to me. " Kathleen said, pulling the car to a stop and making Harry and Dean look at each other, though to be fair, it probably looked like Dean looked at Kathleen. "It says here your badge was stolen." Dean looks surprised, which to Harry looked impressively convincing. "And here's your picture of you." Harry glimpsed at the photo and burst into shocked laughter, making Dean grin sheepishly.

"I lost some weight. And I got that Michael Jackson skin disease." Dean said, grinning cheekily. Kathleen took off her seat belt and looked at Dean.

"Okay, would you step out of the car, please?"

"Look, look, look. If you wanna arrest me, that's fine. I'll cooperate, I swear. But, first, please – let me find Sam." Dean pleaded with her. Harry watched Kathleen nervously, hoping that she didn't stop searching for Sam.

"Oh god. Dean! What do we do?"

"I don't even know who you are. Or if this Sam person is missing."

"Why would we lie about that? Sam would be with us!! We would be with Sam!! Tell her!! She is insane!! Sam is out there alone!! Dean!!" Harry shrieked, making Dean flinch at the volume once more.

"Look into my eyes and tell me if I'm lying about this."

"Oh great. Like that's going to work."

"Identity theft? You're impersonating an officer."

"Told you it wouldn't work. Though to be fair, this is hardly the worse crime you've committed.

"Look, here's the thing. When we were young, I pretty much pulled him from a fire. And ever since then, I've felt responsible for him. Like it's my job to keep him safe. I'm just worried that if we don't find him fast." Dean's voice broke and he swallowed, looking away. "He's my family."

"Oh god. We cannot lose Sam! We will not lose Sam!" Harry stated firmly, making Dean grab his hand out of view and squeeze it.

"I'm sorry. You've given me no choice. I have to take you in." Kathleen said, looking at a photo in her visor. She glanced at Dean sadly and sighed. "After we find Sam Winchester."

"Woo! Go Dean with your puppy dog eyes!! Such a cutey you!" Harry said, smacking a kiss on Dean's cheek. Harry was secretly impressed with how good Dean was getting at ignoring him.

--

Kathleen had stopped the car back in town, with both of them getting out and getting a cup of coffee to go. Much to Harry's relief. Dean may have been a very attractive man, the Winchester genes were something to be jealous of Harry thought, but practically sitting in his lap in a situation where he was the only one able to see him. Harry was just glad to be left alone on his own in the car for a few minutes.

When they got back to the car, they both seemed to have an understanding with one another, which left Harry feeling somewhat left out. Kathleen drove them in silence past the edge of a forest, though to Harry it seemed that she chose the area at random, however, it was random that they found the van, so Harry was preying random got them even further.

"Wait, wait, wait – pull over here. Pull over." Dean told her. Kathleen slowed the car to a stop and all three piled out of the car, Harry quickly following Dean. "It's the first turn-off I've seen so far."

"You stay here, I'll check it out." Kathleen told him as they stopped at the edge of the forest.

"No way!"

"Like she couldn't see that one coming."

"Hey. You're a civilian. And a felon, I think. I'm not taking you with me."

"Like that's gonna stop us, ay Dean?" Harry asked, nudging the hunter.

"You're not goin' without me."

"Oh yeah, that told her." Harry said, rolling his eyes whilst Kathleen sighed and walked back to the car with Dean.

"Alright. You promise you won't get involved? You'll let me handle it?" Kathleen asked.

"You know, Luna told me about a situation like this. Can't remember what she said though."

"Yeah, I promise."

"Shake on it." Kathleen extended her hand out to Dean, who grabbed it and shook it. Both Dean and Harry stared in shock when Kathleen placed a set of handcuffs on Dean's arm and then attached the other cuff to the car door.

"She's good."

"This is ridiculous. Kathleen, I really think you're gonna need my help." Dean pleaded, tugging at the cuffs around his hands.

"I'll manage. Thank you." Kathleen said dryly, locking the door as she walked away, leaving a stunned Harry and Dean behind.

"Well that was a flop. What are we gonna do now?" Harry asked, looking at the cuff around Dean's wrist.

"I gotta start carrying paper clips."

"Well that was profoundly helpful." Harry stated dryly.

"It would be if I carried them around with me. Then I'd be able to actually get out of these stupid things and get Sam."

"Huh. Well what else can you use?" Harry asked curiously, looking around for something to jump out at him, much to Dean's hidden amusement.

"Something long, thin and preferably metal."

"The antenna?"

"The antenna would be perfect." Dean said, before he reached up and tried to grab the antenna. However he was too far away and couldn't reach it. N the distance they heard the distinctive whine of the engine of the pickup truck.

"Oh, son of a bitch. Can you not get it for me?" Dean asked Harry, struggling to reach the antenna.

"Er... me? I'ma midget! Im even shorter than you!"

"You don't have to say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Implying I'm short."

"Well you're not tall."

"Oh shut it midget."

"Me! Keep stretchin', I don't want to be reapin' your soul anytime soon."

"I'm stretchin'! Trust me! Aha!" Dean exclaimed, grabbing hold of the antenna and then starting the painstaking task of unscrewing it.

"Er... not to cause panic or anything, but they're getting closer."

"Shut up. Nearly there." Dean muttered, unscrewing the antenna and pulling it away. Harry watched as he fiddled with the wire and the handcuffs and then grinned when he heard the unmistakeable click and the cuffs dropped away.

"Maybe we should keep them." Harry said, picking the cuffs up from the floor and pocketing them.

"I do not want to know what you and my brother get up to when I'm not around." Dean muttered, making Harry blush bright red.

"We're not doing anything."

"Sure, whatever. I don't want to know. Let's just go find him, shall we?" Dean asked, leading his way into the forest as the brother's walked out opposite them, just missing them.

--

Dean lead Harry to a large house in the middle of the forest, which confused Harry, who muttered under his breath, still following Dean. They looked around, before Dean lead them to a large barn behind the house, carefully opening the door and walking in quietly.

"Sam? Are you hurt?"

"Shit Sam! You're in a cage."

"No, I'm not hurt." Sam answered Dean, only smiling at Harry kindly.

"Damn, it's good to see you." Dean exclaimed in relief.

"How did you get out of the cuffs?" Kathleen asked from her cage, Dean spun around to face her and smirked.

"Oh, I know a trick or two." Alright. Oh, these locks look like they're gonna be a bitch." Dean said, examining the locks on the cage doors. He turned and looked at Harry, much to Kathleen's confusion.

"Think you can make them go funky? You and electricity seems to mix like diet coke and mentoes." Dean said, making Sam snigger and Harry sulk.

"Hey, it's not that explosive."

"Who are you talking to?" Kathleen asked, making Sam, Dean and Harry all look at her, having forgotten she was there.

"Ah, er... no one?"

"I can't risk it. If I do and it makes it worse then what do we do?"

"You know, there is some kind of automatic control right there." Sam told them. Pointing to a panel on a post in the barn.

"Have you seen 'em?"

"Yeah. Dude, they're just people."

"Really? You know, I'm beginning to question you're claims of being Hunters. I've been with you about a month and I'm the biggest oogie boogie you've met. _Me_." Harry said incredulously, making both brothers stare at him before sniggering.

"You do have a disturbing point there. Back to a more serious point though, they jumped you? Must be getting' a little rusty there, kiddo." Dean said, walking over to the control panel and randomly pressing buttons. "What do they want?"

"Why would they need to want something?"

"I don't know." Sam said with a shrug, answering both questions, though more so Dean's. "They let Jenkins go, but that was some sort of trap. It doesn't make any sense to me."

"Well, that's the point You know, with our usual playmates, there's rules, there's patterns. But with people, they're just crazy."

"Wow, Dean made sense. That's creepy." Harry stated, making Sam grin and Dean scowl at him.

"See anything else out there?"

"Uh, he has about a dozen junked cars hidden out back. Plates from all over, so I'm thinkin' when they take someone, they take their car too."

"Did you see a black Mustang out there? About ten years old?" Kathleen asked, getting a sad look from Dean, much to Sam and Harry's confusion.

"Yeah, actually I did. Your brothers?" Dean asked, Kathleen nodded and Harry and Sam finally understood what the two were talking about. "Let's get you guys out of here, then we'll take care of those bastards. This thing takes a key. Key?" Dean asked, looking at the control panel in horror.

"I don't know."

"Alright, I better go find it." Dean said, turning to leave, but stopping when Sam called after him.

"Hey. Be careful."

"Yeah." Dean said and left the barn.

"Harry. Go with him!" Sam shouted, much to Kathleen's confusion.

"Yeah yeah. I got it, seriously, after this, neither of you are splitting up!" Harry groaned, walking out of the barn, hearing the gasp from Kathleen as the door seemingly opened and then closed on it's own.

Harry made his way up to the house, following after where he hoped Dean had gone and let himself inside, not caring if anyone saw the door open. Hopefully it would give them the wiggins if they did.

"Dean? Dean? Where the bloody hell are you?" Harry muttered, walking into the creepy house, looking at the bones and other objects lying around.

Harry wandered through the house, before hearing the yell of someone yelling for their father. Harry slowly waked that way, guessing, correctly, that Dean would be the one causing the yelling.

Harry walked into the main room to find Dean being tied up to a chair, unconscious. Harry groaned and wondered what to do. "To save or not to save." Dean groaned, waking up, and looked around him, eyes catching on Harry and scowling.

"Come on. Let us hunt him." One of the sons said, well Harry thought he was a son. He was younger than the oldest at least.

"Yeah, this ones a fighter. Sure would be fun to hunt." The other son said, making the father laugh and Harry and Dean to look disgusted.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me. That's what this is about? You yahoos hunt people?" Dean asked incredulously, staring at his captors in horror.

"You ever killed before?" The father asked, grinning obscenely.

"Well, that depends on what you mean."

"I've hunted all my life. Just like my father, his before him. I've hunted deer and bear – I even got a cougar once. But the best hunt is human. Oh, there's nothin' like it. Holdin' their life in your hands. Seein' the fear in their eyes just before they go dark. Makes you feel powerful alive." The father told Dean, making Dean look disgusted.

"You're a sick puppy."

"We give 'em a weapon. Give 'em a fightin' chance. It's kind of like our tradition passed down, father to son. Of course, only one or two a year. Never enough to bring the law down, we never been that sloppy."

"Yeah, well, don't sell yourself short. You're plenty sloppy."

"So, what, you with that pretty cop? Are you a cop?" The father asked, making Harry snort despite the situation.

"If I tell you, you promise not to make me into an ashtray?" Dean asked, making the father look at him angrily and Harry groan.

"You make my job of protecting you so much harder." Harry grumbled as one of the sons punched Dean.

"Only reason I don't let my boys take you right here and now is that there's somethin' I need to know." The father said. He walked to the fire place and took a hot poker.

"Yeah, how 'bout it's not nice to marry your sister?" Dean told him, making Harry wince, though he did find it rather amusing. Harry carefully took a step closer to Dean, finally coming to a stop behind him.

"Play along with anything." Harry told him, placing his hand on the side of Dean's neck. Dean didn't move, only stared at the father.

"Tell me – any of the cops gonna come lookin' for you?"

"Oh, eat me. No, no, no wait, wait – you actually might." Dean said with a grin. One of the sons walked over to Dean and held his head in place, forcing him to look at the father. Harry moved slightly out of the way, but not taking his hand off of Dean.

"You think this is funny? You brought this down on my family. Alright, you wanna play games? We'll play some games. Looks like we're gonna have a hunt tonight after all, boys. And you get to pick the animal." The father said, turning to Dean with a grin. "The boy or the cop?"

"Okay, wait, wait – look, nobody's comin' for me, alright? It's just us."

"You don't choose, I will." The father said, before moving the poker and pressing it into Dean's chest.

"Scream!" Harry told him through gritted teeth, Dean glanced down briefly before finally screaming, as Harry took the pain into himself. Of course, he wasn't entirely sure it was going to work, so he was surprised when it did. He had no idea what Dean was feeling though. Hopefully it wasn't pain.

"Oh, you son of a bitch!" Dean yelled, though Harry thought some of it may have been aimed at him.

"Look, this is all I can do to take some of the pain!" Harry told him huffily, he nibbled his lip as the father held to poker to Dean's eye threateningly. "Er – dunno if I can save your eyes. Mine are so much more pretty."

"Next time, I'll take an eye." The father said, taking Dean's attention away form Harry.

"Alright, the guy, the guy! Take the guy!"

"What? Are you insane?" Harry shrieked. The son holding Dean's head let it go as his father moved the poker and then took a key from around his neck and giving it to the other son.

"Lee, go do it. Don't let him out, though. Shoot him in the cage." The father told Lee, making him grin and walk to the door.

"What? I thought you said you were gonna hunt him. You were gonna give him a chance."

"Lee, when you're done wit the boy – shoot the bitch too." Lee nodded and left the house with his rifle. "Better clean this mess up before any more cops come runnin' out here." The father told him. Dean looked at him, showing fear for the first time, before struggling to look at Harry, who was feeling like Dean looked.

"Sam's not going to die! I refuse to let him die!" Harry stated, moving so that Dean could see him.

"Look, I now you're up to something with my brother, and at the moment I don't care, I just want to know why you're here with me and not him!" Dean yelled, looking at Harry with tears of frustration glinting in the corners of his eyes, making the three others in the room look at him strangely.

"You're right. I do want Sam. But that doesn't mean I can follow him wherever he is! Do you understand me? I don't know!!! I should have stayed with him!! Instead I stayed with you! All because he asked me to watch over you! You!! Not him!" Harry screamed, pulling at his hair in anger. This was all his fault, he just knew it. Damn Reaper genes. They weren't helping him at all. He had no way of saving his Sam.

Wait – His Sam? Oh dear.

"So you can't help me? Why are you here then? Why don't you just go off and reap some more souls?" Dean yelled back, making Harry stop tugging at his hair and look at Dean. He could feel tears forming in his eyes much to his shame.

"I can't. I gave up that right when I chose to follow you and your brother. I have to wait for Hank to come to me now. I can't feel souls that are ready to leave anymore. I don't collect human souls anymore. I can't be returned to mortality though, either! It isn't possible. You and your brother are the only ones who have ever been able to see me and not sue me for your own needs. Sam is the only one, since I have become a demon, that actually looked at me as a human! Even you look at me with some distrust in your eyes. He didn't though and now I've lost him!" Harry said, feeling lost for the first time since he had met the Winchester brothers, flinching when they heard the sound of a gunshot.

"You hurt my brother and I swear I will kill you! I will kill you all!" Dean yelled, glaring at the family in front of him.

"You won't have to. If they harm Sam anymore than they already have and I will make sure they don't have a soul left to do whatever their religion says will happen. No one will find anything left of their soul or man parts actually. Never piss of a Reaper." Harry stated with a glower. Dean stared at Harry with a look Harry liked to think was impressed and maybe a little bit cowed.

The father stared at Dean as though he had lost his mind, and then walked to the door and stuck his head outside. "Lee!" When he didn't get a response, he turned back into the room and look at his other two family members. "Jared, you come with me. Missy, you watch him now." Jared grabbed two rifles, handing one to his father. Missy remained behind, standing next to Dean with a knife dangerously close to his eye. The sound of a gun being shot echoed around the room, followed by more soon after.

"Can you not just zap her?" Dean asked anxiously, making Missy glare at him suspiciously, occasionally glancing in Harry's direction.

"Zap her? What do you think I am?"

"I don't know! Do something Reaper-boy!"

"Oh that's it!" Harry huffed, wondering if his magic would work and pointing a finger at Missy. The girl continued to glance around the room warily, whilst not moving from Dean, when she suddenly got thrown across the room. "Oops."

"Oops? Oops?! What the hell did you do?"

"Er... Well maybe the explanation should be saved for later hmm?" Harry said sheepishly, glancing at the unconscious girl on the floor guiltily before picking up the discarded knife and cutting the ropes holding Dean.

"You are telling me what you did, but first we need to find Sam." Dean told him, though Harry wasn't listening to him as Sam had run into the room at the moment.

"I found Sam." Harry said cheerfully, making Dean spin around to face his brother and enveloping him in a bear hug. Harry waved at Sam from over Dean's shoulder, getting a smile and small wave back.

"Let's get out of here. I may never be able to watch _Deliverance_ again." Dean mumbled, walking out of the house with Sam, Harry following close behind them. They met up with Kathleen outside as she was leaving the barn.

"Where's the girl?" She asked them, walking over to them.

"Out cold in the living room. What about the dad?" Dean asked. All three noticed as she paused before answering.

"Shot. Trying to escape." Kathleen told them, they walked to Kathleen's police car, in the make-shift junk yard and finding the keys left in the ignition. Kathleen leaned into the car and grabbed the radio and turning it on.

"Shall we get out of here?" Sam asked wearily, making Harry nod fervently.

"Yeah, I think the car is a t the police station." Dean told them, whilst Kathleen listened to a woman on her walkie-talkie.

"Backup unit en route to your location." A woman's voice sounded over the radio.

"So, state police and the FBI are gonna be here within the hour. They're gonna wanna talk to you. I suggest that you're both long gone by then." Kathleen told them, making Harry huff at being ignored.

"Thanks. Hey, listen, I don't mean to press our luck but we're kind of in the middle of nowhere. Think we could catch a ride?" Dean asked with a grin.

"Start walking. Duck if you see a squad car."

"Sounds great to me. Thanks." Sam said, smiling at Kathleen.

"Listen, uh... I'm sorry about your brother." Dean told her. Harry nibbled his lip, uncomfortable and walked over to Sam.

"Thank you. It was really hard not knowing what happened to him. I thought it would be easier once I knew the truth – but it isn't really. Anyway, you should go." Kathleen said, sniffling slightly and wiping her tears out of her eyes. Sam and Dean nodded and then walked away from the house.

They walked in complete silence, making their way down the dirt road and through the gate at the end, sticking to the trees on the side of the road.

"Never do that again." Dean said, breaking the silence as they walked along the road. Harry nodded his agreement fervently.

"Do what?"

"Go missing! What do you think?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I would have said it less hysterical, but yeah. Don't ever go missin' like that again."

"You were worried about me." Sam said with a laugh.

"All I'm sayin' is, you vanish like that again, I'm not lookin' for ya."

"Sure you won't."

"I'm not."

"So you got sidelined by a thirteen-year-old girl?"

""Shut up. More importantly, ask Harry what he did to said thirteen-year-old girl." Dean said, moving the spotlight onto Harry, who swallowed heavily and smiled weakly at the brothers.

"What did you do Harry?"

"Er – first, I suppose I should tell you that magic is real. I mean magic of the wand-waving kind. Not just voodoo. Real magic. Spells, potions, magical creatures. It's easier to explain to you tow, than normal non-magical people because of what you deal with on a regular basis, but yeah. Magic."

"Magic?" Dean asked blandly.

"Yeah. I was a wizard before I died. The guy I was destined to kill? He was a Dark Lord."

"Like Darth Vader?"

"Er... sure. Was he a dark lord?"

"You've never heard of Darth Vader?" Dean asked incredulously, looking at Harry as though he had just kicked his puppy. Sam watched the two silently from the side.

"Nope, anyway. Back to the story. What I did was a spell. Only um... since I died, my magic doesn't like to obey me."

"Obey you?" Dean asked dryly.

"Why not?" Sam asked at the same time, breaking his silence.

"Erm, obey me, as in, do what I want it to do. It won't because, normally, when you die, your magic goes back into the earth. When I died, my soul didn't move on, and I kept a grasp on my magic and didn't let it leave." Harry told them with a shrug.

"So it won't do what you want anymore?"

"Not all the time. Sometimes it becomes a little – eager? My spells either fail or do what I want, but... more so. I only wanted to shove Missy back and well, Dean, you saw what happened when my magic interpreted that."

"So you don't do magic anymore?"

"Only when I feel like my magic is feeling in a good mood." Harry told them with a light shrug.

"You make it sound like it's alive." Dean told him with a smirk.

"It is."

"Pardon?"

"It is. Well I've always thought it was. So when I died, my magic should have left me and joined the earth, but well... I didn't want it to and so in a way, it's holding a grudge. A bloody long one as well."

"Okaay. You do know you sound like you have schizophrenia, right?" Dean told him before grabbing Sam and ducking into the trees when a police car approached, leaving Harry alone on the roadside to contemplate what he had just said.

**A/N – Another chapter! I'm just spilling them out now. I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I felt the relationship between Dean and Harry has um... grown a bit now. Okay so they are still at each others throat like cat and dog, but a nicer cat and dog? Okay, so tell me what you thought and hopefully the next chapter won't be that long either. Thank you to everyone who reviewed!! **


	6. Shadow

_For Elin1982, Hope Night and everyone who asked for John. Extra props to Hope Night for inspiration! You know where I mean! Lol!_

Chapter Five – Shadow

"Alright Dean, this is the place." Sam said, as they got out of the Impala opposite an apartment building. Sam and Dean were dressed as employees of the alarm system company, Dean grabbed a toolbox from the trunk of the car and all three proceeded to the apartment block.

"Why are we here, and why are you two dressed up as that?" Harry asked, hiding his grin behind his hand when Dean glared at him.

"Shut it Sparky. Though I've gotta say, Dad and me did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork." Dean grinned at Sam, "What was that play you did? What was it – Our Town. Yeah, you were good, it was cute."

"Ooh! Do you have photos?" Harry asked, making Sam glare at the two.

"Look, you wanna pull this off or not?"

"I'm just sayin', these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?"

"I used to be loaded. Damn, wish I'd left myself some of it." Harry said wonderingly.

"How loaded?" Dean asked curiously.

"I could have lived comfortably, not working, or doing anything, for the rest of my life. Damn."

"Whose money did you spend on these outfits?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Ours. You think credit card fraud is easy?"

"Is it?" Harry asked curiously.

--

When they had finally managed to get into the apartment and convince the woman that they were there to inspect the apartments alarm system, the landlady stood by the door and watched as Sam and Dean wandered around the room.

"Thanks for lettin' us look around." Sam told her.

"Well the police said they were done with the place, so..." She glanced around her and stepped inside when Dean came to look at the door. He picked up the broken chain and looked at it. "You guys said you were with the alarm company?" Harry snorted and carried on looking around the room suspiciously.

"That's right."

"Well, no offence, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man." The landlady said, making Harry look up form the windowsill he was inspecting, whilst Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

"I knew a man with boobs once." Harry told them dreamily, making Dean look at him in horror.

"I so didn't need to here that." Dean muttered, getting a funny look thrown at him from the landlady for his efforts and a giggle from Harry.

"We called him mooby."

"Oh god." Dean looked at Sam pleadingly.

"Well, that's why we're here. To see what went wrong and stop it from happening again. Now, ma'am, you found the body?" Sam asked, ignoring Harry's giggles behind him.

"Yeah."

"Right after it happened?"

"No. Few days later. Meredith's work called – she hadn't shown up. I knocked on the door. That's when I noticed the smell."

"Any windows open? Any sign of break-in?" Dean asked, having finally managed to ignore Harry's maniacal giggling again.

"Does there look like a sign of break-in?" Harry asked dryly. "Idiot." He muttered, watching as Dean tried not to glare at him.

"No, windows were locked, front door was bolted. Chain was on the door, we had to cut it just to get in."

"And the alarm was still on?" Dean asked, looking at the alarm system on the wall.

"Like I said, bang-up job your company's doin'." Harry sniggered and moved over to Sam, near the back of the room.

"Mmhmm. You see any overturned furniture, broken glass, signs of struggle?" The landlady shook her head as Dean carried on looking around the apartment.

"Everything was in perfect condition – except Meredith"

"And what condition was Meredith in?"

"Why would an alarm systems company need to knew these questions?" Harry asked musingly, yawning slightly in boredom.

"Meredith was all over. In pieces. The guy who killed her must have been some kind of a whackjob. But I tell you, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said a wild animal did it." Dean looked over at Sam, and Harry huffed.

"Merlin, you'd think they'd stop with the bloody clichés." Harry muttered, walking around the bloody marks on the floor with interest.

"Ma'am, do you mind if we take some time? Give this place a once-over?" Sam asked politely, with a wide smile.

"Oh, well, go right ahead. Knock yourself out." She told them, before turning and leaving the room.

"She didn't mean it literally either Dean." Harry warned, still not looking up from the blood spatter.

"Shut it. So, a killer walks in and out of the apartment – no weapons, no prints, nothin'." Dean said, taking the EMF reader out of the toolbox.

"I'm tellin' ya, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig." Sam said, looking over when the EMF reader started to beep frantically.

"I think I agree with you."

"It feel's kinda bland in here. Well, besides the horrific death. And bad deco." Harry added, looking at the wall and wrinkling his nose.

"What's bad deco got to do with anything?"

"You talked to the cops didn't you Dean?" Sam asked quickly, stopping Harry from making a snappy retort.

"Uh, yeah." Dean glanced over at Harry and smirked. "I spoke to Amy, a uh, charming, perky officer of the law."

"You'd flirt with a poodle if it was legal." Harry muttered, making Dean look scandalised.

"Yeah? What'd you find out?"

"Well, she's a Sagittarius. She loves tequi-"

"Is he always like this?" Harry asked, getting a sigh and a nod in response.

"Unfortunately yes. He thinks with his di-"

"Hey! I do not! And wow, this place it high with the oogie boogie. There is one thing though."

"What?"

"Meredith's heart was missing."

"Her heart?" Sam and Harry both asked at the same time.

Yeah. Her heart. And could you two not do that again. It was freaky."

"So, what do you think did it to her?" Sam asked.

"Well, the lady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe it was – werewolf?" Dean said, looking over at Harry when he snorted.

"Don't be stupid. Why would a werewolf do that? Plus, only the heart? What are you on? They'll eat anything, unless they've had their dose of wolfsbane." Harry added quickly, thinking about Remus fondly.

"Wolfsbane? And the lunar cycle's not right Dean. It's probably a spirit." Sam told him, Dean nodded, glaring at a grinning Harry and then turning his attention to the blood on the carpet.

"Wolfsbane is a potion that allows the werewolf to keep their mind on the nights of the full moon." Harry told him brightly. "Helped Remus loads."

"Remus?"

"My Godfather. He was a werewolf. His was the last soul I reaped in Britain."

"Your godfather was a werewolf? And no one killed him straight away?" Sam asked in horror.

"What?! Kill him? Why would they kill him? He was only a child when he was bitten. He lived with the curse for over thirty years! He never once killed someone whilst he was a wolf. Why would someone want to kill him? They're people too you know." Harry told him with a frown, before Dean looked up from the blood and looked at the two.

"Hey you two love birds got any masking tape?" Dean asked, looking at them and grinning evilly when they both blushed and looked away.

"Er... there's some in the toolbox." Sam told him, rummaging through the box, not noticing Harry aim a kick at a chuckling Dean. "Here you go."

"Cheers." Dean tore off a long strip of tape and connected one of the blood pools to another.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked his brother, whilst Harry stood quietly and watched.

"Just checking something out." Dean told him, connecting all the blood pools together with the tape and then standing up.

"Ever see that symbol before?" Sam asked them both, looking at a symbol of a circle with two curved lines coming off of it in opposite directions, Dean shook his head before turning to the silent Harry.

Harry was looking at the symbol, his eyes were wide and he was pale, well paler than was normal for him. He looked up at the two brothers and noticed them staring at him. He smiled and chuckled nervously, tugging on his hair slightly. "Nope, never seen it in my life."

--

Later that night Sam and Dean went out to a bar to get information on Meredith if they could, and hopefully find something out about the symbol. Harry had decided to stay in the hotel and try to get someone from his _department_ to come visit him. If he could just get the wonky bloody signal to work.

"You know, there's no need to shout." Harry spun around, and growled under his breath when he saw Hank stretched out on the bed Sam had claimed as his own.

"Get off that bed. You're here for a reason." Harry said in agitation, pacing the room. Hank stood up off the bed and watched his little Reaper pace.

"What's wrong kitten?" Hank asked, grabbing Harry's hand on his next pass and pulling him into a hug.

"Someone has summoned that mangy shadow beast." Harry said, wrinkling his nose as he burrowed deeper into Hanks robes.

"They can't harm you. You're Death. Which generally means the death of anything and everything. I refuse to reap daisies though. I give those to vegetarians."

"Really?"

"So what has gotten you so worried?" Hank asked, by-passing Harry's question with a roll of his eyes.

"Sam."

"What's he done?" Hank growled, his eyes narrowing at some invisible thing only he could see.

"He's done nothing. I'm worried what _it_ will do to him. He's human. So is Dean. They don't stand a chance." Harry said, eyes closing as Hank stroked his hair gently.

"Have you told them what they are up against?"

"No. I played ignorant, do you think I should?"

"Yes. Why didn't you?"

"Don't know. I panicked?" Harry asked with a shrug, which he soon regretted as it dislodged Hank's hand from his hair and Hank pushed Harry at arms length away so he could give him a stern glance.

"You panicked? You faced Lord Voldemort, you killed yourself even though you knew your people would turn against you for it and you panicked? It's not that bad a demon." Hank told him, waving his hand casually.

"You can't kill it!"

"Yes you can. Nothing can survive without a soul." Hank told him with a wink. He quickly bent down to press a hard kiss to Harry's lips and leaving him breathless when he pulled away and disappeared.

Harry had just recovered his breath, which he didn't actually need, but it was a reflex he had never gotten rid of, when Dean walked in the door. Alone.

"Where's Sam?"

"Dude, why do you look like you just got laid?"

"Huh?"

"Who did you have over? Wait, how could they see you? What about Sammy?" Dean looked at Harry with mock hurt and gasped, "How could you do that to my Sammy's feelings?"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Sure you didn't. Anyway, Sam went to stalk some poor girl." Dean told him, pulling Sam's laptop out and placing it on the table before he sat down in front of it and turned it on.

"Whatcha searching for?"

"Information on the girl Sam's currently stalking and the symbol you won't tell us anything about." Dean said, looking up at Harry and raising an eyebrow.

"Fine. I know what it is."

"Thought so. Sam owes me ten bucks. Cheers." Dean said with a wide smirk. He pulled his phone out and rang Sam.

"You're sad Dean. Real sad." Harry said, sitting on Sam's bed and watching Dean.

"Let me guess. You're lurkin' outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?" Dean asked into the phone, grinning when Harry scowled.

"Whore."

"Now now. No not you. You've got a funny way of showin' your affection." Dean told Sam with a chuckle. Harry's scowl grew darker, and his eyes flashed with jealousy.

"Who is this little chit?"

"Sorry, man, she checks out. There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phonebook. I even pulled up her high school photo. Now, look, why don't you go knock on her door and uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?"

"Don't encourage him!" Harry hissed.

"Yeah, that I managed to convince our little Reaper friend to admit that he knows what the symbol is. Yeah, so you owe me ten dollars. No he hasn't told me yet though.."

"It's a Daeva."

"What? Like J-Lo?" Dean asked, making Harry look at him strangely.

"A Daeva, not a _Diva_! Idiot. It's a Zoroastrian demon. They're savage, animalistic, nasty attitudes."

"Kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Whoever is controlling it is either very strong or very stupid. The Daevas don't like taking instructions from anyone."

"So, they don't just appear?"

"No, they have to be summoned or conjured." Harry told them, well Dean told Sam.

"Yeah, he said someone's controllin' it. And from what Harry tells me, it's pretty risky business too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos." Dean told Sam, he listened to something Sam said and then looked at Harry. "What do they look like?"

"No clue, nobody's seen 'em for a couple of millennia."

"Summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town. Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram."

"Dean!" Harry hissed, lunging for the phone, which Dean easily dodged with a laugh.

"No, bite her. Don't leave teeth mars, though – Sam? Are you-? He hung up on me." Dean told Harry, who as glaring daggers at the evil hunter.

"Good. What did you put ideas like that into his head for?"

"He needs to get laid. You have, so why can't he?"

"I wasn't laid! Hank just came to visit."

"What, and you both had a little tickle and fumble?"

"No! Gah! Stop encouraging him. You have no idea what this girl is like!"

"She's hot. Sammy scored."

"Oh shut up. Just go look up porn or something." Harry told him, turning his back to Dean and huffing.

"That's not a bad idea."

--

"Shit." Harry looked up from the book he was reading on different demons, and looked over at Dean.

"S'up?"

"I've found something to link the victims."

"Where?"

"My – _friend_, Amy, over at the police department. She's just sent me the complete records of the two victims."

"So what did we miss?" Harry asked, moving over to stand behind Dean. Both of them were reading through the files when Sam ran into the room, looking a little flustered.

"I gotta talk to you two!" Sam gasped, when he could breath.

"Yeah, so do we."

"So what's up?" Harry asked, leading Sam to the bed to sit on, ignoring Dean who rolled his eyes.

"Meg is the one summoning the demon." Sam told then eventually, making both Dean and Harry look grim.

"So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?"

"Looks like she was using the black altar to control the thing." Sam told them. Harry sat down on the bed next to Sam and Dean moved to the other bed in the room.

"So, Sammy's got a thing for the bad girl. And what's the deal with that bowl again?" Dean asked quickly when both Sam and Harry glared at him.

"She was talking into it. The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone."

"With who? With the Daeva?"

"No. You don't scry to communicate with Daevas." Harry told him with a shake of his head. He had a very bad feeling in his stomach as to who Meg was talking to.

"Someone was giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse." Sam told Dean, backing Harry's information.

Dean sat in silence for a few minutes before glancing at the printed out files on the nearby table. Standing up, he walked over and started to look through them. "Holy crap."

"What?"

"What I was gonna tell you earlier – I pulled a favour with Amy, at the police department. The complete records of the two victims – we missed something the first time." Dean told him, passing the files over to Sam.

"What?"

"The first victim, the old man – he spent his whole like in Chicago, bet he wasn't born here. Look where he was born." Dean leant over Sam and pointed to a spot on the page Sam was looking at. Harry watched the two, nibbling on his lower lip.

"Lawrence, Kansas."

"Mmmhmm." Dean handed Sam the second file. "Meredith second victim – turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from." Dean flipped through the pages in Sam's hands and pointed to where it said 'Lawrence, Kansas'

"Holy crap."

"Yeah."

"I mean, it _is_ where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?" Sam said, looking at the files in his hands. Harry glanced at the files and then turned his attention back the book he was reading. He assumed it was John Winchesters journal thing, considering most of it was hand written.

"I think it's a definite possibility." Dean said with a nod.

"But I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?"

"Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation." Dean said, making Harry quickly look up from the book and glance at the two brothers.

"No, we can't. We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her."

"I'll tell you one thing. I don't think we should do this alone." Dean said, making Harry frown.

"Who else?"

"Dad."

"Ooh! John Winchester? I've never met him!"

"Er... Right." Sam said, inching away from Harry slightly.

--

Later, Dean had tried to ring John but only managed to get through to the voicemail machine, so he left a message on there whilst Sam and Harry looked through the weapons Sam had brought up from the car.

"Voicemail?" Sam asked, looking up from an axe he was testing.

"Yeah. Jesus, what'd you get?" Dean asked, looking at the bags Sam had brought up with him.

"Didn't Sam tell you? We're running off together." Harry said dryly, not looking up form the journal.

"Should you be reading that?" Dean asked, ignoring what he said.

"Why not? It's not like I'm in here. Why not, by the way? I should think I would have a whole chapter for myself."

"Anyway!" Sam said, before Dean could retort. "I ransacked that trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything." Sam told him. Dean nodded and the brothers started to load their guns silently.

"Big night." Dean said, breaking the silence and making Sam and Harry look up from what they were doing.

"Yeah. You nervous?"

"No. Why, are you?" Dean asked him.

"No. No way. God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?" Sam asked placing his gun down on the bed next to him.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, all right?" Dean said, much to Harry's relief, it mean he didn't have to say it.

"I know. I'm just sayin', what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school – be a person again."

"You wanna go back to school?" Dean asked, glancing at Harry, who looked back at him.

"Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing."

"Huh." Dean kept glancing at Harry, who was staying silent. This wasn't any of Harry's business.

"Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?" Sam asked with a frown, Harry glanced down at the journal quickly when Sam looked at him.

"No. No, it's uh, great. Good for you."

"I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?"

"It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt."

"But there's got to be somethin' you want to yourself."

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam." Dean told him. He stood up and walked over to the dresser, not looking at either of the two left on the bed.

"Dude, what's your problem?" Sam asked in frustration. Harry stood up and moved to the table to sit on it with the journal. He didn't want to be in the firing line.

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?" Dean asked eventually, turning around and looking at Sam.

"'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom." Harry snorted at Sam's naivety and then quickly turned his attention back to the journal when both brothers glared at him.

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man." Dean turned back to face the dresser and leant on it, "You and me and Dad – I mean, I want us... I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again."

"Dean, we _are_ a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before."

"Could be." Dean said sadly, refusing to look at his brother. Harry looked up from the journal and at Sam, who was looking down, sadly.

"I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way." Sam said softly, making both Harry and Dean flinch.

"Wow, talk about kicking him where it hurts. You can't walk away from this life, you do know that right?" Harry asked, looking at Sam with a small amount of sympathy in his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, making Dean turn around to look at Harry.

"You're involved in this world, you can't go back. You'd go crazy. Sitting in an office all day, every day? You would see something preternatural in every death that came along. Every missing person. Everything. Eventually, you would find Dean and go back to hunting." Harry told him bluntly, ignoring the glare he was receiving from both brothers. Though why Dean was glaring at him was anyone's guess. "So then, shall we be off?"

--

Harry didn't follow Sam and Dean into the warehouse, guns blazing, in the hopes of getting their guy. He knew who they were after. He had a vague idea of who or what Meg was. He stayed in the shadows of the elevator shaft and watched as Meg greeted a shocked Sam and Dean.

Harry narrowed his eyes when he saw the little slut eyed up _his_ Sam! Harry watched in silence as the Daeva knocked both the brothers out, growling lowly, making the Daeva pause when it seemed it wanted to carry on injuring them. It stopped and Meg tied the brothers up to separate posts in the warehouse.

Harry watched in the shadows, in silence, praying his magic wouldn't listen to his anger and give him away. When Meg settled down to sit on the floor in front of the brothers, Harry decided to move.

He silently crawled onto the floor, moving nearer to the brothers, until he could hear them groan as they woke up. Sticking to the shadows, Harry moved around until he was close enough to see all three.

"Hey, Sam? Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend... is a bitch." Dean said, making Harry's lips twitch.

"This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin' what you had to say it was all a set-up, wasn't it? And that the victims were from Lawrence?"

"It doesn't mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that's all."

"You killed those two people for nothin'"

"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less." Meg said, grinning at a fuming Sam. Harry narrowed his eyes at the wench and then moved nearer.

"You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time. But why don't you kill us already?" Dean asked with a cheeky grin.

"Not very quick on the uptake are we? This isn't a trap for you." Meg told them, making Sam frown.

"Dad. It's a trap for Dad." Sam said softly.

"Oh sweetheart. You're dumber than you look. Even if dad was in town, which he's not, he wouldn't fall for a trap. He's too good for that." Dean said, shaking his head. Harry snuck out form one shadow into another as Dean carried on talking, distracting the demon-bitch-thing. He knew she would be able to see him. She wasn't entirely human, no matter what she wanted them to believe.

"He is good. Like your little friend in the shadows. So, figured the Daevas wouldn't be able to get you if you didn't leave a shadow?" Meg asked, Harry stepped out of the shadows and looked at Meg blankly. "Oh yes, I think I should just tie you up along with your little buddies."

"You can try. But your master will tell you it's not a good idea." Harry said, glaring at her. "Oh, and I swear to the Gods, you touch Sam in any way other than cruelty, and I will rip your soul right out of your body and have a good game of piñata with it. Seriously!"

"And what are you to think you could do that?" Meg asked, sneering at Harry and caressing Sam's face, who moved away from her hand.

"Well, you know that funky ass song, that Deany-boy likes, which just goes to show that there is no accounting for taste? No? It's called (Don't Fear) the Reaper. You should though. Oh you should definitely fear the Reaper. 'Cause you've pissed him off. And you little Daeva friend won't hurt me before you try. He's got better sense than to do that. Nothing with anything resembling a mortality will harm me." Harry said, bluffing somewhat, but hoping it was true. Judging by the look of fear of Meg's face it was working. "Though I don't suppose it will stop them from crossing me, as they all seem to be very keen on harming my charges. So Daevas. Hows about you make me a little happier with you?"

Harry looked around, ignoring the panicked questions coming from Meg. A shadowy creature appeared on the wall in front of him and seemed to look at him. Not that Harry could tell, being that it didn't actually have a distinguishable face. Harry nodded once and the shadow disappeared.

"Where did it go? What did you tell it?" Meg asked, looking around her. She screamed suddenly as she was dragged to the ground, her eyes wide with fear as she looked at a widely grinning Harry.

"I told you not to mess with me, and those thoughts in your head about little Sammy over there. Well they ain't very virtuous. So buh-bye." Harry said with a little wave.

"Who are you?"

"Ask your master about Death's favourite." Harry said, and with that Meg was dragged, kicking and screaming to the large window and thrown out of it. Harry turned to face the brothers and smiled widely. "See, I told you I would be useful eventually!"

"Yeah, yeah sure. Now untie me!" Dean said grumpily. Harry smiled even wider and knelt down to help untie Dean.

"Yeah, thank you for the help. And don't call me Sammy." Sam added, making Harry grin at him sheepishly.

"Hey, Sam?" Dean asked, making Harry and Sam glance over at him.

"Hm?"

"Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that's not so buckets-o'-crazy, huh?" Dean asks with a grin before walking off out of the warehouse.

--

Later, they were walking back to their room in the motel, laden down with their bags full of weapons.

"Why didn't you just leave that stuff in the car?" Dean asked, leading them to their room.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again – better safe than sorry." Sam said as Dean unlocked the door. Harry glanced at the room suspiciously, they all walked in and saw a silhouette of a man standing by the window.

"Hey!" Dean said, making Harry groan mentally, Sam went and turned the lights on and the man turned around. Harry stared at the man, wondering why he felt like he knew him. "Dad?"

"Hey boys." John and Dean walked towards each other and shared a rather emotional hug, if you asked Harry. Sam stood next to Harry, watching sadly and making Harry wonder what was going on between the elder and youngest son. "Hi Sam."

"Hey, Dad." Sam said softly, placing the bag of weapons on the floor. Harry stepped up behind Sam and placed a hand on the small of his back.

"You know, your father's kind of hot." Harry said quietly from behind Sam.

"Why thank you. What are you? Why are you following my boys?" John asked, making Harry duck back around Sam, and glance around at John.

"Heh, hey Johnny-boy!" Harry said cheerfully, taking care to remember to avoid Dean, as he looked like he wanted to throttle him.

"What are you?"

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you can see me, being father to these two. And can I just say, the genes in your family are just perfect. I'm a Reaper. Don't worry though, I have no intention of harming either one of them past hitting Dean around the head when he's stupid." Harry added, getting another glare from Dean for his efforts. Sam chuckled and stepped out of the way when it seemed John was accepting of Harry.

"So I can gather when you saved them from the Bitch from hell." John Winchester said with a smile that made Harry blush. Suddenly John was flung across the room and Harry nibbled his lip nervously glancing around him. Harry turned to look at Sam, to see him getting dragged to the other side of the room. Harry quickly dived across the room and tacked Dean to the floor, making him grunt at the force and the Daeva to miss his shadow.

"How do we get rid of it?" Harry hissed, lying on top of Dean, pinning him to the ground.

"How did you get rid of it the last time?" Dean hissed back, wincing when he heard his father yell in pain.

"There's more than one. And um... it's looks like they realised I was bluffing." Harry admitted, flinching at Sam's yell.

"We need to get rid of the shadows then." Dean told him, making Harry look at him as though he was insane. How do you get rid of shadow?

"How do I do that? My magic doesn't listen to me much anymore!" Harry said, panic beginning to enter his mind when he glanced across to where Sam had been.

Had been being the operative word.

Suddenly the room was lit with a bright white light and Harry quickly shut his eyes, rolling off of Dean when he was nudged.

"Quick! We need to get out of here. Dad?" Sam's voice yelled out in the brightness.

"I'm in here." John's voice came from the kitchenette. Harry stood up quickly, dragging Dean with him, ignoring the grunt of pain the elder brother let out and dragging him to the door. Sam followed just as quickly, the bag on his shoulder and helping his father to walk.

When they got outside, they stood by the car, and Harry glanced at the Winchester's sadly. He knew what was going to come. He stepped away from the family, and walked to the Impala, giving them the privacy such a conversation would need.

He had no idea why he was still following the Winchester brothers around. Hank would willingly take him on as a permanent Reaper, he knew he would, but Harry didn't want to leave the two brothers alone. He felt that they would need him soon, though he wasn't sure why.

His lack of magic had never bothered him since dying until he met up with the brothers, but now he knew he really was helpless. He had nothing to contribute towards hunting. He was useless. He knew the only reason he was still with the brothers was because they were allowing it. It was just a matter of time before they got bored of him.

**A/N – This is actually quite a short chapter for this fic. I did enjoy writing this though. Not much John to be fair, but well, they were being attacked, there's only so much obstinacy that Harry can fit in when being attacked! Heh. I thought I should put in here, that I will be doing each season as a separate fic. So this one won't be all too long. No clue when the next chapter will be out, please review and tell me what you think of this chapter!! **


	7. Hell House

Chapter Six – Hell House

**Interstate 35. East Texas**

Harry sat in the back seat, watching quietly as Dean glanced at a sleeping Sam and smirked. Harry watched as Dean then picked up a plastic spoon from their last dinner and stuck it into Sam's mouth. Harry started snickering quietly, watching the two brothers, impressed that Dean managed it without waking Sam up.

Dean watched the road, then grabbed his phone and took a photo of Sam. He laughed, making Harry chuckle again and sit back to watch the fireworks. Dean then, still laughing quietly, turned up the volume in the car, blasting the music.

"A fire of unknown origin took my baby away!" Dean warbled, Sam jumped awake and sat up, spitting out the spoon. Harry laughed quietly, whilst Dean drummed his hands on the steering wheel, smirking to himself.

Sam scowled at his brother, and turned the music down. "Haha, very funny."

"Your little Reaper in the back thought so. Sorry though. Not a lt of scenery here in east Texas you kind of gotta make your own." Dean said, laughing and not sounding very sorry.

"Man, we're not kids anymore, Dean. We're not gonna start that crap up again." Sam stated with a sigh.

"Er... Start what up?" Harry asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"Prank stuff – it's stupid, and it always escalates." Sam explained, not noting the evil grin that bloomed across Harry's face.

"Did I ever tell you about my father and his friends?" Harry said, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Nope, and we never asked. Know why? 'Cause we don't particularly care." Dean said with a wide grin, Harry glared at him and sulked in the backseat.

"Leave him alone Dean. Anyway, like I said, it always escalates." Sam said, turning slightly in his seat to look at Harry.

"Let me guess? Someone always ends up in tears."

"Oh what's the matter? You afraid you're gonna get a little Nair in your shampoo again, huh?" Dean asked with an almost innocent smile. Harry looked between the two slightly confused.

"What's Nair?"

"All right, but just remember, you started it." Sam said, ignoring Harry's questionaing.

"Ooh! I can't wait! This should be fun."

"Oh bring it on, Baldy." Dean said, turning his attention back to the road briefly.

"Where are we, anyway?" Sam asked suddenly. Harry shrugged whilst Dean looked at him quickly.

"Few hours outside of Richardson. Give me the lowdown again." Dean told him. Sam picked up a piece of paper from the dashboard and read from it, ignoring Harry who was reading over his shoulder.

"All right, about a month or two ago, this group of kids goes pokin' around this local haunted house." Sam told them, making Harry frown.

"Haunted by what?" Harry and Dean asked at the same time. Both then turned to glare at the other before turning that glare onto a chuckling Sam.

"Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit. Legend goes, it takes girls and strings 'em up in rafters. Anyway, this group of kids see this dead girl hangin' in the cellar."

"Anybody ID the corpse?" Dean asked with a frown.

"Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there, the body was gone. So, cops are sayin' the kids were just yankin' chains." Sam told them both.

"Maybe the police were right." Harry said lightly with a shrug.

"Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids' firsthand accounts. They seem pretty sincere." Sam stated, looking at the paper in front of him.

"Where'd you read these accounts?" Dean asked.

Sam looked at him shiftily and then hesitantly told him. "Well, I knew we were gonna be passing through Texas. So, uh, last night I searched some local... paranormal websites." Dean rolled his eyes and Harry chuckled lightly. "And I found one."

"And what's it called?" Dean asked. Sam shifted in his seat uncomfortably, making Harry giggle in the back and receiving a glare from Sam for his efforts.

"Hell Hound's Lair dot com." Sam mumbled, frowning when Harry's giggle turned into almost hysterical laughter.

"I've met a Hell Hound or two in my life, my Godfather was a Grim, they generally don't have lairs." Harry said between giggles.

"You're Godfather was a Grim?"

"Yeah well he could turn into one anyway."

"Back on track. You researched from a website streamed direct out of Mom's basement?" Dean asked, making Sam laugh.

"Yeah, probably."

"Yeah, most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit 'em in the persqueeter."

"Look, we let Dad take off, which was a mistake, by the way. And now, we don't know where the hell he is, so, in the meantime, we've got to find ourselves something to hunt. There's no harm in checking this thing out." Sam explained patiently.

"All right. So, where do we find these kids?"

"Same place you always find kids in a town like this."

"Er..." Harry said slowly when it seemed both brothers _knew_ the answer to this from the cryptic answer Sam gave.

--

Sam, Dean and Harry walked back to the Impala after having had a thoroughly disappointing afternoon talking to completely off their head teenagers.

Dean sighed and climbed into the car before turning to his two companions. "So we have found out that the walls in the house were black."

"Or red. Or maybe it was blood." Harry interrupted, making Dean glare at him

"Yes, well and there were symbols on the walls, crosses and stars."

"Pentacostals." Harry again pointed out

"And the girl they saw had black or red hair."

"Or blonde."

"Okay, stop interrupting me." Dean said, turning in his seat to give Harry the full benefit of his glare, ignoring Sam's chuckling.

"Sorry."

"So anyway, the only conclusive thing we found out was the guy that took them to the house. Er... Craig. Works in the record store." Sam said, interrupting the glaring match that was going on between the other two.

"Well let's go talk to Craig then." Dean said, turning back around and then pulling the car out of the car park.

"So what else do we know about Craig?" Harry asked once it seemed Dean had forgotten that he wanted to kill the Reaper.

"Nothing. He's called Craig, he works in the record store. That's it." Dean said, Harry swore he could still hear the Winchester grinding his teeth.

"Well let's go check out the record store then? Let's talk to this Craig, see what he has to say." Harry said chirpily, practically bouncing in the back seat of the car.

"Fine. Whatever."

**Record Store, East Texas.**

"Gentlemen, can I help you with anything?" A young man asked as soon as they walked in the door.

"Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asked, watching Harry out of the corner of his eyes.

"Wow, they've got some weird LP's here. And yes, I did indeed say LP." Harry said, flicking through

"I am." Craig said, wearily.

"Well, we're reporters with the _Dallas Morning News. _I'm Dean, this is Sam." Dean said, indicating to each other with his hand.

"No way. Yeah, I'm a writer too. I write for my school's lit magazine." Craig exclaimed excitedly.

"No way? Woo! Great for him. He's a geek!" Harry muttered, flipping through the LP's. Dean smirked then managed to keep his face straight when Craig looked at him suspiciously.

"Oh, good for you Morrison."

"We're doing an article on local hauntings, and rumour as it, you might know about one."

"Smooth." Harry whispered in Sam's ear, making the hunter shudder then scowl over his shoulder.

"You mean the Hell House?" Craig asked, not hearing the scoff from Harry.

"Oh well that's original."

"That's the one."

"I didn't think there was anything to the story." Craig admitted as he sorted through some more LPs.

"Why don't you tell us the story?" Sam asked, inching nearer to Harry who was beginning to look shifty.

"Well, supposedly, back in the thirties, this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in the house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression. His crops were failing. He didn't have enough money to even feed his own children. So, I guess that's when he went off the deep end."

"How?" Sam asked, then neatly took the LP back from Harry and placed it back in the rack.

"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop. But he just strung them up, one after another. And then, when he was all finished, he turned around and hung himself. Now, they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringin' up any other girl who goes inside."

"But where'd you hear all this?"

"My cousin, Dana, told me. I don't know where she heard it from. You've gotta realise I didn't believe this for a second." Craig told them.

"But now you do?" Sam asked, standing in front of the LPs that Harry was trying to get to.

"Look, he'll never know it's gone!"

"I don't know what the hell to think, man. Guys, I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real, and she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?" Craig told them earnestly.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, which Harry took advantage off and grabbed an LP. "Thanks." Dean told him and the three left the store.

--

It was later on that they finally decided it would be prudent to actually go and visit the house in question. It was Harry's suggestion and poor attempt at getting Lawyer Boy off his case about the stolen (borrowed) LP.

"Can't say I blame the kid." Sam said as they made their way up to the house.

"Yeah, so much for curb appeal." Dean muttered, getting a laugh from Sam and Harry.

As soon as they got to the house, Dean took the EMF meter out and looked up when it started beeping.

"You got somethin'?" Sam asked, as Harry looked at the house suspiciously.

"Yeah. The EMF's no good." Dean said turning it off and putting it back in his pocket.

"Why?" Sam asked before looking to where Dean was pointing to a telephone pole.

"I think that things still got a little juice in it. It's screwin' with all the readings." Dean told him.

"Yeah, that'd do it." Sam nodded, looking at Harry who was still glaring suspiciously at the house.

"Yep. Come on, let's go." Dean said, not noticing the way Harry was looking at the house.

"I don't know. There's something weird about this house." Harry said quietly, but followed the two brothers into the house anyway.

The entered the house and saw strange symbols on the walls in what Harry hoped was red paint.

"Wow, painting and decorating really went all out with this house." Harry muttered picking up random objects.

"Looks like Old Man Murdoch was a bit of a tagger during his time." Dean said as he noticed what Harry was talking about.

"And after his time, too. The reversed cross has been used by Satanists for centuries, but this sigil of sulphur didn't show up in San Francisco until the sixties." Sam pointed out. Dean and Harry looked at him strangely then at each other.

"You know, this is exactly why you never get laid." Dean pointed out bluntly, making Harry choke on a cough. "Hey, what about this one? You seen this one before?" Dean asked as he looked at another symbol on the wall.

"No." Sam stated bluntly.

"I have. Dunno where, but I recognise it. Maybe Hank would know." Harry stated, looking at the symbol over Dean's shoulder.

"Same here. Somewhere." Sam ran his finger over the symbol and then shrugged and moved away.

"It's paint. Seems pretty fresh too."

"I don't know Sam. I mean, I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind, but the cops might be right about this one." Dean admitted, looking around the house sceptically.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam said. A sound of crashing came form the next room, making all three turn to the sound before looking at each other.

"Since when can ghosts _crash_?" Harry asked before they all went to investigate the noise.

To their surprise, they saw two computer geeks standing in the kitchen, carrying torches and several pieces of video equipment.

"Cut! Just a couple of humans. What are you guys doing here?" The one with glasses asked, looking at them with disgust.

"What the hell are _you_ doin' here?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Uh, we belong here. We're professionals.

"Professional what?" Dean and Harry asked at the same time, though only Dean was heard.

"Paranormal investigators." The bespectacled geek told him, handing out business cards to Sam and Dean. "There ya go. Take a look at that boys." Both brothers looked at the cards before looking back up at the geek.

"Oh, you've gotta be kiddin' me." Dean muttered, before discreetly handing it to Harry, who read it and burst into hysterical giggles.

"Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler. Hell Hounds Lair dot com, you guys run that website?" Sam asked, ignoring Harry's giggles.

"Surely that's not their real names."

"Yeah."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah we're huge fans." Dean said sarcastically, moving to look around the room.

"And uh, we know who you guys are, too." The first geek said, making Sam and Dean look up at him nervously.

"Oh, yeah?" Sam asked, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

"Amateurs." Sam and Dean relaxed and Harry sniggered behind Sam. "Lookin' for ghosts and cheap thrills."

"I wonder what he would say if he could see me. You're being stalking by you very own Reaper."

"Yeah. So, if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here." The other geek said, making Ed nod and hum in agreement.

"Yeah? What do you got so far?"

"Was that even English? Seriously, what did he say?" Harry asked Sam, whose lips twitched with suppressed humour.

"Uh, Harry, why don't you tell 'em about EMF?" The first geek, Ed, said to his friend.

"Huh, two Harry's. Now this won't be confusing." Harry the Reaper said.

"EMF?" Sam asked, moving away from Harry the Reaper.

"Electromagnet field." Harry the geek told his matter of factly before walking over to his bag and removing a EMF meter. "Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector, like this bad boy right here." Harry stopped in his explanation when the meter began to buzz. "Whoa, whoa. That's 2.8 MG."

"2.8." Ed said with a nod.

"It's hot in here."

"No it's not." Harry the Reaper said in confusion.

"Wow."

"Huh. So, have you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or-? Dean asked them.

"Once. We were, uh, we were investigating this old house, and we saw a vase fall right off the table."

"By itself."

"Well, we didn't actually see it, but we heard it." Ed told them, Dean shook his head in shame. "And something like that, it – uh, it changes you." Sam looked at them, almost convincing Harry the Reaper that he was in awe of the two geeks.

"Yeah, I think I get the picture. We should go – let them get back to work." Dean said, walking over to Sam and grinning.

"Yeah, you should." Harry the geek told them.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, work." Ed said, laughing at Sam and Dean left with an invisible Harry behind him. "I'm sorry. That pot we smoked gave me the giggles. Woo!"

--

Dean and Harry waited outside of the public library for information on the house and Mordechai. They both sat up straight when they noticed Sam walking over to them holding the research on his hands.

"Hey." Sam greeted them, making Harry beam at him.

"Hey, what do you got?" Dean asked as he and Harry stood up and all three of them walked back to the Impala.

"Seriously, can you speak English or do I need to send you back to school?" Harry asked, getting a glare form Dean and a chuckle from Sam.

"Well, I couldn't find Mordechai, but I did turn up a Martin Murdoch who lived in the house in the thirties." Sam told them, interrupting any bickering before it could break out. "He did have children, but only two of them – both boys. And there was no record he ever killed anybody."

"Huh."

"What about you?"

"See, that question made sense."

"Well, those kids didn't really give us a clear description of that dead girl, but I did hit up the police station." Dean said, ignoring Harry, much to the Reaper's disgruntlement. "No matching missing persons – it's like she never existed." Dean told them as they reached the Impala and got in. "Dude, come on, man. We did our digging, this one's a bust, all right? For all we know, those Hell Hound boys made the whole ting up."

"Yeah, all right."

"So, I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers, and leave the legend to the locals." Dean said as Harry climbed into the car behind him. Sam stayed outside, a small smirk on his face when Dean started the car. Both Dean and Harry jumped when the windshield wipers and some fast-paced music played at full blast. Dean tuggled to turn everything off quickly, whilst Sam was in hysterics and Harry was rubbing his ears gently and sulking. "What the-?" Dean cursed when he finally managed to turn the car off. Sam licked his finger, not noticing that Harry had zoned out whilst watching him somewhat and drew a number one in the air with it. He then pointed to it and them to himself and mouthed "me." "That's all you got? That's weak. That is Bush-League." Dean told him, as Sam started to laugh and got in the car.

--

The next day, in the early morning, the three of them decided to head back to the Hell House and see if they could find anything out without the two geeks being there. They were surprised to find several onlookers and ambulances surrounding the house. A body bag was being wheeled out of the house on a stretcher.

"What happened?" Dean asked no one in particular, though he did get an answer, much to the awe of Harry.

"Couple of cops say that poor girl hung herself in the house."

"Hanged. She hanged herself. God! No one can speak proper English here can they?" Harry grumbled.

"Suicide?" Sam asked, ignoring Harry's ramblings.

"Yeah. But she was straight-A student, with a full ride to UT, too. It just don't make sense." The man said, walking away.

"He was useful. So what do you think?" Harry asked, turning to look at the two brothers.

"I think maybe we missed something." Dean told them.

--

They all decided to go back to the Hell House later in the night to check it out, however there were a couple of Sheriffs on guard around the house.

"I guess the cops don't want anymore kids screwin' around in there."

"Yeah, but we still gotta get in there." Dean said as Harry turned and looked whee he could hear whispering.

"I don't believe it." Harry muttered, making Dean and Sam turn and look at where he was looking. Ed and Harry were walking towards the house with all their equipment.

"I got an idea." Dean whispered, then stood up behind the trees and began to shout, "Who ya gonna call?"

The sheriff turned to where Ed and Harry were creeping into the house. "Hey! You!" Two of the sheriffs chased after Ed and Harry allowing the other three to sneak into the house whilst Ed and Harry were running.

Once inside the house, Dean and Harry seemed to gravitate towards the symbols on the walls of the house.

"Man, where have I seen that symbol before? It's killin' me!"

"Totally agree with you there, I've seen it too somewhere. Maybe I could go to my deposit box and see if it's in any of the books I've got in there." Harry said musingly.

"You have a deposit box?"

"Yeah, I hired one out in Britain and shoved a load of stuff in it before I died. Then when I moved to America, I moved it with me. It's in New York at the moment."

"Look, you two can gossip later. We don't have much time at the moment though, so come on." Sam said, walking to the stairs that lead to the cellar. Dean and Harry looked at each other, then shrugged and followed Sam.

In the cellar there were several shelves full of jars with random things in them, which strangely made Harry reminisce about Snape's potions cupboard. Dean walked over to one such shelf and picked up a random jar, turning to look at Sam with a grin.

"Hey, Sam, I dare you to take a swig of this." Dean said with a grin.

"Oh god, please don't. I'm rather liking the not having to Reap souls gig. I also don't want to reap Sam's soul." Harry groaned.

"What the hell would I do that for anyway?" Sam asked, looking at the two in front of him as though they were insane.

"I double-dare you." Dean said. Harry made a strange choking sound and Sam shake his head. A noise came from a different area of the basement making all three of them stand up straight. Dean put the jar back on the shelf and then grabbed his gun ready for whatever was making the noise, then all three of them walked over to a cabinet. Dean motion for Sam or Harry to open the door whilst he stood in front of it with his gun aimed. Sam opened it and several rats came scurrying out and onto the floor, making Harry jump and make a strange whimpering noise.

Both brothers looked at the Reaper in bemusement, making him blush deeply and look at his feet. "I really hate rats."

"I agree with you for once" Dean admitted, before sniggering and making Harry scowl at him.

"You'd rather it was a ghost?"

"Yes." Both Harry and Dean said quickly. Then all three turned in time for Mordechai to try and take Harry's head off with an axe. Sam shot at Mordechai a few times and the ghost dissolved into a cloud of smoke.

"What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Nothing I've ever seen and well... I'm nearing being one of those supernatural oogedy boogedies for ten years! That was just wrong!"

"Glad we all agree. Come on, come on, come on!" Dean said, nervously looking around him. Mordechai suddenly reappeared and took a swing at Sam but Sam held up with rifle to stop the axe from hitting him.

"Go! Get out of here!" Sam shouted. All three then rushed for the staircase and managed to get back upstairs without getting hurt by Mordechai. They all ran through the house and burst out of the front door at full speed, coming to a stop in front of Ed and Harry holding cameras and looking a bit shocked.

"Get that damned thing out of my face!" Dean at them as all three ran past them and Mordechai appeare din the doorway.

"Sweet Lord of the Rings – run!" Harry the geek yelled and started to run awat, but the sheriff stopped them, "But there's a – with an axe - where'd he go?" Harry asked as Mordechai disappeared from the doorway.

--

Back at the motel room, Sam was doing more research on Mordechai, whilst Dean was sitting on the bed, drawing the symbol from the house on a notepad.

"What the hell is this symbol? It's buggin' the hell outta me. This whole damn job is buggin' me. I thought the legend said that Mordechai only goes after chicks." Dean said, looking at the notebook.

"He does." Sam said absently.

"Right. Well, then that explains why he went after you, but why me?" Dean asked with a completely straight face, ignoring the giggles coming from Harry.

"Hialrious, and you can stop laughing too, he went after you first!" Sam told Harry with a glare. "The legend also says he hung himself, but you see those slit wrists"

"Yeah."

"What's up with that?" Harry asked, leaning on the back of the chair he was sitting on.

"And the axe too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over?"

"But his mood keeps changin'"

"Exactly." Sam said as he logged onto the Hell Hounds' website. "I'm tellin' you, the way the story goes – wait a minute."

"What?"

"Someone added a new post into the Hell Hounds' site. Listen to this. They say Mordechai Murdoch was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in the house for all eternity. Where the hell is this going?"

"Not a clue. What the hell is this symbol?" Dean asked and then tossed the notebook to the end of his bed in frustration. Harry walked over to it and picked it up. He looked at the symbol and the straightened up, grinning widely.

"I know where you would have seen it!" Harry crowed, a large grin on his face.

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"On the album cover for the Blue Oyster Cult! God I love their song!" Harry said with a happy grin on his face. Dean look at him in shock and then looked over to Sam who was shaking his head with a soft smile on his face.

"So, what does that mean?"

"It means that the person who started this either works in a record store or has great taste in music." Harry said with a shrug."

--

They all walked into the record store later that day and headed straight for where Craig was sitting behind the cash register, looking frustrated and upset.

"Hey, Craig. Remember us?" Dean asked, making Craig look up at them.

"He would be pretty dim if he didn't." Harry muttered, once again by the LPs, which made Sam stick to him like a bur.

"Guys, I'm not really in the mood to answer anymore of your questions, okay?"

"Oh don't worry, we're just here to buy and album, that's all." Dean told him. Craig turned away and Dean looked through some of the albums, before finally choosing one. He then walked back over to where Craig was standing, ignoring the minor tiff Harry and Sam were in over Harry's sticky fingers. "You know, I couldn't figure out what that symbol was, then a little voice happened to tell me. It doesn't mean anything. It's a logo for Blue Oyster Cult." Craig looked at him guiltily then looked past his shoulder where Harry and Sam were still fighting.

"You are not stealing it!" Sam suddenly burst out, making Dean turn to face him, looking amused and rolling his eyes.

"Your brother's talking to himself." Craig pointed out, making Dean chuckle and shake his head.

"Yeah he does that sometimes. I find it best to just agree with him sometimes. So tell me, Craig – are you into BOC? Or just scarin' the hell outta people?" Dean asked, changing the subject and handing the album over to Craig, who turned it over and saw the symbol. "So why don't you tell us about that house without lyin' through your ass this time."

"All right, um – my cousin, Dana, was on break from TCU, and I guess we were just bored, lookin' for something to do, so I showed her this abandoned dump I found.

"We thought it's be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So, we painted symbols on the walls – some from some albums, and some from som of Dana's theology textbooks. And then we found out this guy Murdoch used to live there, so we made up some story to go along with that. So they told people, who told people, and then there two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own I mean, I thought it was funny as first, but... now that girl's dead." Craig started to cry at this, making Dean shift uncomfortably and Harry skip over and giggle maliciously.

"Aw, Dean! You big meany! You made him cry." Harry practically cooed, standing behind Craig who was managing to get a hold of himself. Dean glared at him, then quickly looked at Craig sympathetically, which made Harry snicker.

"It was just a joke, you know, I mean – none of it was real, we made the whole thing up, I swear." Craig told him, wiping his tears away and then moving back to pricing albums, making Harry jump away form the pile as though shocked.

"All right." Dean told him, moving to walk out of the shop with Harry and Sam following closely behind. He held the door open for Sam (and Harry) and then turned back to face Craig. "If none of it was real, then how do you explain Mordechai?" With that, Dean turned and left the shop.

--

Back at the motel room, Dean entered and closed the door behind him, raising a questioning eyebrow at an agitated Harry sitting on the table.

"What's up with you?" Dean finally asked, sitting on one of the beds and taking his shoes off.

"Sam's in the shower."

"So?"

"So! He's _naked_ in the _shower_!!" Harry hissed at him, before nibbling the tips on his fingers.

"Well I'm back to stop you from molesting my baby brother." Dean said with a grin, shaking a packet of itching powder into Sam's clothes.

"He's hardly a baby. He's what, twenty-three?" Harry asked before going completely white before turning bright red in a matter of seconds, which somewhat impressed both Winchesters as Sam had walked out of the bathroom in just a towel. Harry squeaked and fell over the back of the table.

"What's wrong with him, and where were you?" Sam asked, walking into the room.

"Oh, I went out. And him? Not a clue."

"So, I think I might have a theory about what's goin' on." Sam said after shrugging away Harry's behaviour.

Harry managed to get himself back onto the table and gain control of himself in time to hear Sam. "Really?"

"Yeah, what if Mordechai is a tulpa." Sam said, going back into the bathroom and Dean quickly sprinkled the remaining ihcing powder into the rest of Sam's clothes.

"A what-pa? Never come across one of those before."

"A tulpa?" Dean asked when Sam came back out of the bathroom, making Dean jump up and hiding the itching powder packet quickly, much to Harry's amusement.

"Yeah, a Tibetan thought form." Sam added for Harry's sake.

"Yeah, I know what a tulpa is, it's the faulty Reaper that doesn't. Hey, why don't you get dressed? We'll go grab somethin' to eat." Dean smiled and walked into bathroom.

Harry once again collapsed over the back of the table when Sam just dropped the towel and started to get dressed.

--

Later, when they had got to a restaurant, Sam and Dean got their food and then went to sit down, Harry following behind, being unusually quiet, and still blushing a bright red whenever he saw Sam. Which was often. Sam began to shift uncomfortably, making Dena smirk and Harry to cough and then blush once again when Sam looked at him questioningly.

"Hey what's your problem?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." Sam said, sitting down at the table.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Sam said through gritted teeth.

"All right, so, keep goin', what about these tulpas?"

"Okay, uh, so there was this incident in Tibet in nineteen-fifteen. A group of monks visualized a golem in their heads. They meditate on it so hard, they bring the thing to life – out of thin air."

"So?"

"That was twenty monks. Imagine what ten thousand web surfers could do. I mean, Craig starts a story about Mordechai, and it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard." Sam told them, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, much to Dean and Harry's amusement.

"Okay, wait a second. You're trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?"

"I don't know, maybe." Sam admitted, looking uncomfortable.

"People believe in Santa Claus. How come I'm not gettin' hooked up every Christmas."

"Because you're a bad person." Harry deadpanned, smirking slightly at the glare Dean sent his way.

"It's because of this." Sam turned the computer so that Dean and Harry could see it. On the monitor there was a picture of another symbol they had found on the wall of the house. "That's a Tibetan spirit sigil on the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology texbook. I bet you they painted this not even knowing what it was. Now, that sigil has been used for centuries – concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So, people are on the Hell Hounds; website, staring' at the symbol, thinkin' about Mordechai – I mean, I don't know. But it might be enough to bring a tulpa to life."

"It would explain why he keeps changin'."

"Right. As the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes, like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"Yeah, ;cause he's not a traditional spirit, per se."

"He doesn't have a soul, or didn't have a soul." Harry said suddenly, making both the brother jump having forgotten about their little silent Reaper.

"What? What do you mean?" Dean asked, looking at the Reaper and smirking when he blushed at the attention he was receiving from Sam.

"Oh, well when we first met old Mordechai, I got this strange feeling around him, but I didn't know what it was. I know now, he didn't have a soul to begin with. With most ghosts, they are memories of their former self, so they have a tiny bit of their soul left in them. Lets them have memories and so on. I can Reap ghosts and not lose a notch on my Reaping tally. They're already dead you see?" Harry explained, making both brothers look at him gone out."

"So you can't help us? You mean you really are completely useless?" Dean asked, making both Sam and Harry glare at him, though for different reasons.

"Don't be mean!"

"Yeah, and no, I'm never useless." Harry said, standing up and walking out of the restaurant with a smirk.

"What?" Dean asked when Sam suddenly burst into laughter.

"He's turned your hair green." Sam told him, once again starting to laugh when Dean looked at his reflection in a spoon.

"I'm going to kill him!"

"You can't, he's already dead. Now listen, we can't take the sigil off the wall because once tulpa's are created, they take on a life of their own."

"Great. All right, so , it he really is a thought form, how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?"

"Well, it's not gonna be easy with these helping us. Check out their homepage." Sam said, showing Dean the video of the events of the previous night at the house. "Since they posted the video, the number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone."

"Huh. I got an idea. Come on." Dean said, Sam grabbed his laptop and gathered his things, following Dean.

"Where are we going?"

"I gotta find a copy store and you have to talk to a moody Reaper. I'll kill him if I do. Is my hair still green?"

"Yep and for some reason it's got little silver highlights in it." Sam said with a grin before scratching his back. "Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or somethin'" Dean burst into laughter and started to walk away. "You did this?" "Dean laughed again. "You're a friggin' jerk!"

"Oh yeah!" Dean said, Sam took his bag and coffee and left the restaurant, finding Harry waiting for him outside.

"You waited out here?"

"Yep, Dean won't stop glaring at me. Want to make him even angrier?" Harry asked with a smirk, still having a light blush across his cheeks.

"Sure, how?"

"Well for one, I can stop the itching and two, I have an idea how to get him back." Harry said, grinning widely. This was his area of expertise. Well, this and battle magic... But that wasn't necessary.

"Really? Do tell."

--

They eventually managed to find where Ed and Harry the geek were staying and knocked on the door.

"Come on out here, guys, we hear you in there."

"Yeah and I told you they were there." Harry grumbled, getting glared at by a green-haired Dean. The door opened and Sam and Dean looked inside.

"Oh, look at that. Action figures in their original packaging. What a shocker." Dean deadpanned, making Harry snigger and Sam scowl at the two of them.

"Guys, we need to talk."

"Yeah, um, sorry, guys. We're uh – we're a little bit busy right now."

"Why is your hair green?" Harry suddenly asked from behind Ed, making Harry the Reaper burst into giggles and Dean to scowl.

"A prank gone horribly, horribly wrong. Well anyway, we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down you're website." Dean stated bluntly. Ed laughed at them, making Harry the Reaper stare at him suspiciously.

"Man, you know, these guys get us busted last night, we spend the night in a holding cell."

"I had to pee in that cell urinal in front of people And I get stage fright."

"Tell him to do maths. It helps. Makes you pee in front of others when needed." Harry whispered to Sam and making Sam try not to look behind him at the strange Reaper.

"Why should we trust you guys?"

"Look, guys, we all know what we saw last night, what's in the house. But now, thanks to your website, there are thousands of people hearin' about Mordechai." Sam tried to reason. Harry by this point had gotten bored and had carefully made his way into the trailer, to look at the action figures.

"How much do you think these are worth? Maybe we should take one." Harry said, looking at the figures.

"Sam's right, which means people are gonna keep showin' up at the Hell House, runnin' inot him in person – somebody could get hurt." Dean said, ignoring Harry the Reaper.

"Yeah." Ed agreed, much to the amusement of Reaper Harry.

"Ed, maybe he's got a point."

"No, no."

"Nope."

"Okay, we have an obligation to our fans, to the truth." Ed explained, making Dean practically growl at them. Harry carefully left the trailer and went back to standing behind Sam. He liked to keep at least one person between himself and Dean at the moment.

"Well, I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now-"

"Dean, Dean, hey, hey." Sam said, interrupting Dean and grabbing his arm. "Forget it, all right? These guys – I could probably bitch-slap them both. I could probably even tell 'em that thing about Mordechai-" Sam said, noting how interested Ed and Harry suddenly looked. "But, they're still not gonna help us. So, let's just go."

"Yeah, you're right." As they walked away, Ed and Harry started to follow them, making all three of them smirk.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What did you say about-? Hold on a second here." Ed exclaimed as he hurried to catch up with them.

"Wait, wait. Yeah, what thing about Mordechai, you guys?"

"Don't tell 'em Sam."

"But if they agree to shut down their website, Dean..." Sam trailed off, allowing Ed and Harry a chance to agree with him.

"No, wait, wait. Don't listen to him, okay? We'll do it." The three of them stopped walking and turned to face them. "We'll do it."

"It's a secret, Sam."

"Look, it is a pretty big deal, all right? And it wasn't easy to dig up. So, only if we have your word that you'll shut everything down."

"Totally."

"All right." Sam agreed as Dean took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to them. "It's a death certificate from the thirties. We got it at the library. Now, according to the coroner, the actually cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound."

"That's right, he didn't hang or cut himself."

"He shot himself?" Harry the geek asked.

"Yup. With a .45 pistol. To this day, they say he's terrified of 'em."

"You know, yours and your brothers grammatical skills are truly lacking. Even I can tell and I only had a typical education up to age ten. That's really quite bad you know." Harry pointed out, getting fed up of being ignored.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds, you could kill the son of a bitch." Dean added, ignoring Reaper Harry completely. Ed and Geek Harry smiled at one another and Harry ran back to the trailer which Ed walked behind him, leaving the three behind.

--

Later that day in the restaurant once more, Harry having turned Dean's hair back to normal after much threatening and sulking on Dean's behalf, they were sitting at a table, discussing Ed and Harry.

On the wall next to them next to them, mounted on a piece of wood, was a painted wooden fisherman holding a fish in his hands. Dean pulled the string under the piece of wood, and the fisherman began to laugh. Sam pulled the string to stop the sound.

"If you pull that string one more time, I'm gonna kill you."

'And I'll have someone to Reap. I've got dibs on your soul. I asked Hank personally." Harry added cheerfully, getting a strange look from both brothers. Dean then grinned and pulled the string again, but Sam stopped the laughing again, causing Dean to laugh.

"Come on, man. You need more laughter in your life, you know, you're way too tense." Sam took a sip of his beer, choosing to say nothing. "They post it yet?" Dean asked eventually, when the silence got too much. Sam turned his computer to face Dean, who began to read, "'We have learned form a reputable sources that Mordechai Murdoch has a near fatal fear of firearms.' All right. How long do we wait?" Dean asked, ignoring the sniggering Harry. Sam closed the laptop and looked at his brother.

"Long enough for the new story to spread and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall, iron rounds will work on the sucker." Sam told him, holding uo his beer in a mock alute.

"Sweet." Dean tapped his bottle against Sam's and then took a drink, not noticing the attneiton Harry and Sam were paying to him. When he went to put the bottle down, the bottle was glued to his hand making both Sam and Harry laugh. "You didn't." Sam held up a bottle of superglue.

"Oh I did. With a little help from our friendly neighbourhood Reaper." Dean looked at them in shock, though Harry was undecided if it was because Sam pranked him, or because Sam made a pop culture reference. Sam then pulled the string and the wooden fisherman began to laugh, Sam laughing along with it. Which just plain creeped Harry out.

--

That night, they made their way to the Hell House, entering with guns and flashlights and looked around.

"I barely have any skin left on my palm." Dean whined, making Harry chuckle as he looked inside of a cabinet in the kitchen.

"I could help you with that, but I fear you'll try to strangle me if I come anywhere near you."

"I thought your magic mojo stuff wasn't listening to you." Dean bitched at him, making Harry look like a kicked puppy at Sam.

"Dean! Stop being mean to him. He's trying to help." Sam scolded, Harry smirked at Dean behind Sam's back, which made Dean glower at him and carry on looking around.

"So, you think old Mordechai's home?" Dean asked, choosing to stick with safer ground, seeing as Harry had managed to set Sam against him.

"I don't know."

"Me neither." Ed said, making Harry the Reaper, Dean and Sam all jump around to face him, pointing their guns at them, which caused the two geeks to scream. "Whoa, whoa! Hey!"

"What are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?" Sam asked, facing his gun down, Harry let go of the bright light of ... something, he had managed to gather, remembering to try that one again sometime soon.

"We're jus' tryin' to get a book and movie deal, okay?" Ed told them. Harry turned as he heard the sound of knives sharpening coming from behind the doors. The looks on the faces of the others told him that they too, had heard the noise. "Oh, crap. Uh, guys, you wanna go open that door for us?"

"Why don't you?" Dean whined. A moment later, Mordechai burst through the door and Sam and Dean shot at him several times until he dissolved into a cloud of smoke. Sam, Dean and Harry all left the room to look around.

"Oh, he's gone. He's gone." Ed said, dumbfounded.

"Did you get him?"

"Oh, yeah, they got him."

"No, on camera, did you get him on camera?"

"Uh I..." Harry grabbed the camera from him, watching the footage. Suddenly Mordechai appeared and destroyed the camera with his axe. Harry fell to the floor, and Mordechai disappeared again. Sam, Dean and Harry ran back into the room.

"Hey. Didn't you guys post that BS story we gave you?"

"Of course we did!"

"Yeah, but then our server crashed."

"Yeah."

"So, it didn't take?"

"Uh.."

"So these guns don't work?"

"Yeah."

"Great. Sam, any ideas?" Dean asked looking at an annoyed Sam.

"We are getting out of here and you are going to tell us about the third part of your party."

"Yeah – wait? What?" Ed asked, looking at his friend, who was looking at the Winchesters in part fear, part determination.

"Better tell them the truth. Who else can they tell? I clearly come up on camera though. Something to take note of in the future." Reaper Harry said with a sigh.

"Ah, well we have a Reaper following us around. He's annoying as all hell and won't leave us alone. Besides that, he's completely harmless."

"Well that answers that. Come on Ed." Harry grabbed Ed and as they started to leave. When they reached the front door, Mordechai appeared, causing them to, once more, scream and run away. They stop at another locked door where Mordechai finds them and they leant against the wall. "Mary and Joseph."

"The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!" Ed yelled just as Sam entered.

"Hey!" Mordechai turned to face him, leaving Ed and Harry to run once more. "Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch." Mordechai took a swing at him, but Sam ducked and the axe hits the wall. Again, Mordechai swung, this time managing to pin Sam against the wall with his axe and begins to choke him.

Harry watched this and then jumped to grab Mordechai, but only going through the spirit. Which shocked both Harry _and_ Mordechai.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, making Dean run into the room.

"Hey!" Mordechai looked at him and Dean held an aerosol can over a lighter, and it burst into flames. "Go, go, go! Come on!" Dean and Harry both helped Sam up. "Look, if Mordechai can't leave the house, and we can't kill him, we improvise." Dean told them, he lit the lighter and threw it on the floor. The whole room burst into flame as Sam, Dean and Harry ran out of the house. Mordechai tried to follow them, but only got to the front door before he was forced to stop, watching as the three ran behind the nearby trees.

"That's the solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Well, no one will go in anymore I mean, look, Mordecahi can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty, but it works." Dean explained, defending himself.

"But, what if the legend changes again, and Mordechai _is_ allowed to leave the house?"

"Well then, we'll just have to come back."

"Kind of makes you wonder – of all the things we've hunted, how many existed just 'cause people believed in 'em?" Dean looked thoughtfully at the house slowly burning to the ground.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm completely real. No one thought me up."

"Unfortunately." Dean muttered, making Harry sulk next to Sam.

--

The next day, they went to speak to Ed and Harry, to make sure that they didn't post anything else about Mordechai.

"Gentlemen."

"Hey, guys." Sam greeted them.

"Should we tell 'em?"

"Oh, you might as well, you know they're just gonna read about it in the trades." Ed told him with a sigh.

"So, this morning, we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer." Harry the Geek told them.

"Oh yeah? Wrong number?" Dean asked with a smirk.

"No, smartass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights – maybe even have us write it." Ed told them excitedly.

"And create the RPG." Harry added importantly.

"The what?" Dean asked, looking at them in confusion.

"Role-Playing game."

"Right."

"It's a little lingo for ya. Any who, uh, excuse us, we're off to La-La-Land."

"Well congratulations, guys, that sounds really great." Sam told them warmly.

"Yeah, that's awesome. Best of luck to ya."

"Oh yeah, luck – it's got nothin' to do with it. It's about talent, you know? Sheer, unabashed, talent." Ed told them, giving them the peace sign. "Later" He and Harry got into their car, which has their trailer attached to it. "See you around." They drove away. Sam and Dean laughed and started to walk back to their car, followed by a very smug Harry.

"Wow."

"I have a confession to make." Sam admitted.

"What's that?"

"I was the one who called them and told 'em I was a producer." Sam admitted as they reached the car and laughed.

"Well, I'm the one who put the dead fish in their backseat." Dean told him, making them laugh again.

Harry coughed to get their attention and then pulled something from inside his long coat. "I stole their mint condition Darth Vader." Harry told them, throwing the boxed to to Dean, who burst into laughter.

"Truce?" Sam asked them with a grin.

"Yeah, truce. At least for the next hundred miles." Dean told him with a grin. Sam sighed and got in the car, quickly followed by a small smiling Harry.

**A/N – So then, we now get to know Klepto!Harry. He's changed a lot since he left Hogwarts and died, hasn't he? If anyone wants or needs to know, Harry is three years older than Sam and one year younger than Dean. He is dead though and died when he was eighteen, so he will forever look eighteen unless something happens to change that.... This chapter, being set in June, 2006 makes the ages thus (for those who have asked)**

**Dean – twenty-seven (24/01/79)**

**Harry – twenty-five (31/07/80)**

**Sam – twenty-three, as Harry so kindly pointed out for me! Lol! (02/05/83) **

**Sam really is the baby of the group! Lol! So please tell me what you think! **

**Also, thank you to everyone who has contacted me during my loss. It truly is welcome and you have my deepest thanks. **


	8. Something Wicked

Chapter Seven – Something Wicked

Harry sat in the back of the Impala (once again having be refused persmission to drive it.) and listened to the two brothers argue, again.

"Yeah, you probably missed somethin', that's why." Dean stated, watching the road as he drove towards Fitchburg.

"Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers – I couldn't find a single red flag. Are you sure you got the coordinates right?"

"Yeah, I double-checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Look, Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important, Sammy."

"Well, I'm tellin' you, I looked, and all I could find was a big, steaming pile of nothing'. If Dad's sending us hunting for something, I don't know what."

"Hey! Maybe he's gonna meet you there and we can all participate in a big Winchester orgy!" Harry piped up from the back, making both brothers grimace and Sam to turn in his seat to face Harry slightly.

"Is this your way of telling us we're ignoring you? We all know Dad's been _so_ easy to find up to this point, right?"

"You're a real smartass, you know that? Don't worry, I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killin'. And there will definitely not be an orgy, whether Dad is there or not."

"Well no, if your father isn't there, then it would be a threesome. Really Dean. Get with it." Harry said, smiling slightly, when, once again, both brothers winced slightly.

"What makes you so sure that there will be something to kill?" Sam asked after a moments silence to change the subject.

"Well, because I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right."

"No it doesn't."

"Yeah, it totally does." Harry watched out of the window as they passed a sign telling him the population of Fitchburg. Why anyone would need to know was beyond him. It was at banal moments like that that made him miss England. No one there gave monkey's how many people lived where.

--

Once they got into Fitchburg, they pulled up outside of the first coffee shop that they saw, leaving Dean to go and fetch the coffee.

"So, what are we going to do here? Just wait and hope that something comes up?" Harry asked, leaning on the car next to Sam as they waited for Dean to come out with the coffee.

"Pretty much. Boring?"

"Yup." Harry admitted, watching Dean walk towards them with two cups of coffee and handing one to Sam. "Where's my coffee?"

"You don't get any. You're hyper enough without. Anyway, the waitress thinks that the local freemasons are up to somethin' sneaky, but, uh, other than that, nobody's heard about anything weird goin' on." Dean told them reluctantly.

"Dean, you got the time?" Sam asked randomly, making both Harry and Dean look at him strangely.

"Ten after four. Why?" Dean told him after looking at his watch.

"What's wrong with this picture?" Sam asked, looking over at the nearby playground. Dean looked where he was looking, the playground was almost deserted, with the exception of a young girl playing. Her mother was watching her from a nearby bench.

"School's out, isn't it?" Harry asked, looking at the playground in confusion.

"Yeah. So, where is everybody? This place should be crawlin' with kids right now." Sam said, watching when Dean straightened and walked over to the playground and the watching mother.

"It sure is quiet out here." Dean said conversationally.

"Yeah, it's a shame." The woman said, not taking her eye of her daughter.

"Why is that?"

"You know, kids getting sick. It's a terrible thing."

"How many?"

"Just five or six, but serious – hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting anxious. They think it's catching."

"Hm." Dean watched the woman's daughter on the monkey bars, then stood up and walked over to Harry and Sam.

"How dumb was that waitress not to tell you about this?" Harry asked, once Dean was standing near him.

"Let's go check out the hospital."

--

"Dude, dude, I am not using this ID." Sam exclaimed, looking at his ID as he and his brother, dressed in suits walked into the hospital, followed by a sniggering Harry.

"Why not?" Dean asked innocently, making Harry burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Bacause it says 'bikini inspector' on it!" Sam exclaimed, making Harry laugh even harder and Dean join in with the laughing.

"Don't worry, she won't look that close. Hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence, Sam." Dean told him, getting his laughter under control and turning Sam to the front deak.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Jerry Kaplan, Centre for Disease Control." Sam said with a winning smile that made Harry practically swoon where he was standing.

Unfortunately it didn't work for the cold-hearted receptionist. "Can I see some ID?" Which made Harry burst into laughter and Dean try his hardest not to, making Sam glare at the two of them."

"Yeah, of course." Sam told her, smiling at her again, and once more making Harry go weak at the knees, much to Deans disgust. Sam took out the ID from his jacket and quickly showed it her, then put it away. "Now, could you direct me to the paediatrics ward please?"

"Okay, just go down that hall, turn left and up the stairs." Sam smiled at her once more, ignoring the small whimper that came from Harry and led Dean in the direction he was told to go, pausing to glare at Dean.

"See? I told you it'd work." Sam shook his head and walked down the hall.

"Follow me. It's upstairs." Sam told them at a whisper and then led the way.

"Are you sulking?" Harry asked after they had been walking for a couple of minutes in silence.

"Of course not." Sam said shortly as they passed a room which had the door open. Dean stopped and looked inside, causing Harry to roll his eyes.

"Nosy." Harry muttered as he too looked in the room. There was an old woman sitting in a wheelchair. She turned to look at Dean with cold steely eyes, which creeped Harry out. Dean noticed an inverted cross on her wall and the woman turned her eyes away from him.

"Dean." Sam called from the hallway. Dean looked at Sam, as did Harry and Sam nodded his head towards the end of the hallway. Harry and Dean then left and followed Sam down the hallway where he indicated.

It took a little searching once they got to the right hallway, but they finally found the doctor in charge of the case about the children.

"Well, thanks for seein' us Dr Hydecker." Dean greeted, shaking hands with the Doctor.

Oh, I'm glad you guys are here. I was just about to call the CDC myself. How'd you find out, anyways?"

"Oh, some GP, I forget his name, he called Atlanta, and uh, must have beat you to the punch." Dean lied smoothly. Harry would admit he was a little impressed.

"So, you say you got six cases so far?" Sam asked, ignoring Harry who was now snooping around the hallway.

"Yeah, in five weeks." Hydecker said, looking through the window to a small boy in a coma. "At first, we thought it was garden-variety bacterial pneumonia – not that newsworthy. But now..." Hydecker sighed and turned to face Sam next to him.

"Now what?"

"The kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep goin' down. Their immune systems just aren't doin' their job. It's like their bodies are wearing." Hydecker said wearily. Harry looked in the window of the same boy and then glanced sadly at Sam. A nurse chose that moment to walk over to them carrying a clipboard.

"Excuse me, Dr Hydecker."

"You ever see anything like this before?"

"Never this severe." Hydecker admitted, signing the form on the clipboard that the nurse had handed to him.

"The way it spreads – that's a new one for me." The nurse told them as she took the clipboard back.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked the nurse curiously.

"It works its way through families, but only the children – one sibling after another."

"Do you mind if we interview a few kids?" Dean asked.

"They're not conscious."

"None of them?"

"They're near death." Harry muttered, flitting from one room to the other like a demented bringer of bad news.

"No." The nurse told them, confirming what Harry said.

"Can we, uh – can we talk to the parents?"

"If you think it's help." Hydecker said in agreement.

"Yeah. Who was your most recent admission?"

"If you'll follow me, I'll take you to speak to a Mr Tarnower. Both of his daughters were the last to be admitted." Hydecker told them, leading them down the hallway to where a man was standing, looking in the window of a room.

"Mr Tarnower, may we speak with you?"

"I should get back to my girls." Tarnower said, looking past them to the room behind them.

"We understand that, and we really appreciate you talkin' to us. Now, you say Mary's the oldest." Sam asked, ignoring how Harry managed to walk _through _the wall to the girls room.

"Thirteen."

"Okay. And she came down with it first, right?" And then..."

"Bethany the next night."

"Within twenty-four hours?"

"I guess. Look, I already went through all this with the doctor."

Harry watched the interaction between the brothers and Mr Tarnower with barely any interest at all. No, he was more interested in the two girls in the room behind them.

His Reaper senses were going off the scale. Part of him _knew_ it was too late, they were too near to death to be saved, yet another part of him _knew_ that they were alive, and just... well, just sleeping. They would eventually wake up.

"Confusing isn't it?" Harry spun around to face who was speaking to him. A woman, dressed in black, with a coat similar to Harry's, but a more feminine cut.

"Andrea?"

"Yep. I've been practically trapped here, with all these young souls, confused whether they are going to die or not. Five weeks I've been here, waiting." The reaper, Andrea, told him, sitting down on the bed of the oldest girl.

"Have you taken any of their souls yet?" Harry asked curiously, watching the brothers out of the corner of his eye.

"No, I don't dare to. One minute I'm certain they are dying and so I go to take their sould, then I'll get the feeling that they are alive and they are just waiting. If that makes any sense at all."

"No, it does make sense. It's the feeling I got when I came in here. Has anyone died of this yet?"

"No. But I've seen something like this before."

"You have, when?"

"Some time ago. Just tell your little followers that they are searching for something demonic. This is no ordinary illness. It' not natural. So you tell those boys that, send them in the right direction. I believe Dean will know what it is. Eventually."

"Okay. Well it's looks like they're finishing up with Mr Tarnower, so I'll go back to them, I hope we stop this."

"Same here. Now go."

"Goodbye Andrea. I would say it was nice meeting you again, but under the circumstances." Harry said, then disappeared back through the wall, and ran after Dean and Sam as they were walking away.

"Hey, so did you find anything out?"

"You know, this might not be anything supernatural. It might just be pneumonia." Sam said, as Harry caught up with them.

"Maybe. Or maybe something; opened that window. I don't know, man, look, Dad sent us down here for a reason. I think we might be barkin' up the right tree."

"Dean's right, much as I hate to admit that, this isn't natural. I was told by the child Reaper that Dean has seen this before."

"I have no idea, I'm drawing a blank."

"I'll tell you one thing." Sam said, as they continued to walk down the hallway.

"What?" Harry and Dean both asked, making them glare at the other.

"That guy we just talked to? I'm bettin' it'll be a while before he goes home." Sam said, sharing a knowing look with his brother.

--

"You realise this is illegal right? It's called breaking and entering. I'm supposed to be the one with no morals, yet I'm the one trying to veto this. The world has gone wonky." Harry muttered at he followed the brothers into Bethany's bedroom.

Dean and Sam were both walking around the room, searching it with different equipment. Dean scowled at him, when the little machine started beeping crazily when Dean passed him. Harry chuckled sheepishly, and shrugged before he stepped out of the way.

"You got anything over there?" Sam asked when he heard the beeping of Dean's machine.

"Only a stupid Reaper gettin' in the way. Besides that, nothin'."

"Yeah, me neither." Sam told them, before going to the window and then looking at something closer. "Hey, Dean, Harry?"

"Yep?" Harry asked as Dean looked up from his little machine.

"You were right. It's not pneumonia." Dean and Harry walked over to the window by Sam and looked at it. On the window ledge, there was a long, black handprint. "It's rotted. What the hell leaves a handprint like that?" Sam asked, Dean stared at the handprint, seemingly lost in thought. "What's wrong with him?"

"I told you, Dean's met this thing before."

"I know why Dad sent us here." Dean said suddenly, making Harry and Sam look at him curiously. "He wants us to finish the job."

--

Back at the motel, Dean was telling them about the Shtriga, much to the confusion of both Sam and Harry.

"So, what the hell is a shtriga?" Sam asked, for the both of them, as they all got out of the car.

"It's kind of like a witch, I think. I don't know much about 'em." Dean admitted with with a shrug as he got some things out of the trunk of his car.

"Well, I've never heard of it. And it's not in Dad's journal."

"Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin about sixteen, seventeen years ago. You were there, you don't remember?"

"No."

"Yeah, I guess he caught wind that the thing's in Fitchburg now and kicked us the coordinates."

"So, wait, this...."

"Shtriga."

"Right. You think it's the same one Dad hunted before?" Sam asked, watching Dean search for something in the trunk then shut it.

"Yeah, maybe."

"But if Dad went after it, why is it still breathing air?" Sam asked.

"Cause it got away."

"It got away?" Sam deadpanned, ignoring Harry, who was making abortive movements behind Dean's back.

"Yeah, Sammy, it happens." Dean snapped.

"Not very often." Sam pushed, still not noticing Harry, who gave up with a groan and slowed to a walk behind the two.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, I mean, maybe Dad didn't have his wheaties that morning." Dean told him with a shrug, glaring at Harry when he snorted.

"Yeah right. John Winchester not being on top of his game. Pull the other one, it has bells on it." Harry muttered from behind them, ignoring the glares coming from both brothers.

"He does have a point though. What else do you remember?"

"Nothin' I was a kid, all right?" Dean said, walking ahead of them to enter on his own.

"Ooh, he's getting snappish. Me thinks there is more to this than meets the eye. And why do you ignore me when I try to hint to let it drop?" Harry asked, standing next to Sam, watching Dean go.

"I ignore you when I feel fit to ignore you. Sometimes, the information you offer is of no help to anyone but yourself. And sometimes, not even then!" Sam snapped, making Harry flinch and look away from him.

"I'll wait out here then." Harry muttered and turned to walk back to the car, ignoring Sam who followed Dean inside.

Harry sighed and picked at his fingernails as he waited for Sam and Dean to come out of the motel with their key. He was beginning to feel less and less human the more he stayed with the Winchesters, but at the same time, he had never felt so _alive_ in his life.

--

"Well you were right. It wasn't very easy to find, but you were right. A shtriga _is_ a kind of witch. They're Albanian, but legends about 'em date back to ancient Rome. They feed off o f spiritus vitae." Sam said later when they were back in the motel room, where Harry was still sulking, sitting on top of a chest of drawers, since there was no table.

"Spiri-what?"

"Vitae. It's Latin for breath of life. I suppose it would be you life force or essence." Harry explained dully, bristling at the shocked looks that got.

"How did you know that?" Dean asked him, completely shocked.

"I'm fluent in Latin. There really isn't much to do when you're a Reaper with no one to reap." Harry admitted with a shrug.

"Whatever. Didn't the doctor say the kids' bodies were wearin' out?" Dean asked, ignoring Harry once again and not noticing the look Sam threw at the two of them.

"It's a thought. You know, she takes your vitality, maybe your immunity goes to hell, pneumonia takes hold. Anyway, shtrigas can feed off anyone, but they prefer-"

"Children."

"Yeah. Probably because they have stronger life force. And get this – shtrigas are invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man." Sam said, making Harry sigh at the predictability of it all.

"No. That's not right. She\s vulnerable when she feeds." Dean told them, making Harry look up in interest once again.

"What?"

"If you catch her when she's eating, you can blast her with consecrated wrought irons, buckshots or rounds, I think."

"How do you know that?"

"Dad told me. I remember." Dean told him shortly.

"Oh. So uh, anything else Dad might have mentioned?"

"No. That's it. What?" Dean asked when Sam stared at him.

"Nothin'. Okay, so, assuming we _can_ kill it when it eats, we still gotta find the thing first, which ain't gonna be a cakewalk. Shtrigas take on a human disguise when they're not hunting."

"What kind of human disguise?"

"Historically, something innocuous – it could be anything. But it's usually a feeble old woman, which may be how the whole witches as old crones legend got started." Sam told them, getting an interested look from Dean, who took out a map from his bag.

"Hang on."

"What?"

"Check this out." Dean said as Sam walked over to him to look at the map, "I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now, these are the houses that have een hit so far, and dead centre."

"The hospital."

"The hospital. When we were therem, I saw a patient – an old woman."

"An old person, huh?" Sam deadpanned, making Harry snort in amusement as Dean glared at him.

"Yeah."

"In the hospital? Whew. Better call the caost guard." Sam said laughing and getting a glare once again from Dean.

"He does have a point Dean. It's funny!" Harry said chuckling.

"Well, listen, smartasses, she had an inverted cross hangin' on her wall." Dean told them smugly. Harry sighed and jumped down from his perch on the drawers.

"So when do we go terrorise the poor little old dear?"

--

"So we sneak in to terrorise old people huh? So glad no one can see me, 'cause you two look stupid. Anyone else got Mission Impossible stuck in their head?" Harry asked, leaning against the wall opposite the two brothers, who were sneaking through the halls of the hospital.

"See you tomorrow Betty." The nurse called to Dr Hydecker.

Harry snickered, "The nurse is called Betty. Nurse Betty!" Harry snorted, getting a glare from Sam as he and Dean tried not to get noticed.

"Try to get some sleep." Hydecker walked off down the hallway, then Harry signalled for Sam and Dean when the two had wandered off and left the hall.

"Seriously, you both look daft." Harry pointed out as Sam and Dean snuck through the halls until they reached the elderly woman's room. Her door was closed, and Dean pulled out his gun and went to open the door. Pausing when Harry seemed to burst into hysterical laughter. "You're seriously going into a little old biddy's room with a gun? What is she going to do? Stab you with her knitting needle?"

"Shh." Dean hissed. Sam opened the door and they all entered, Sam also took out a gun, to Harry's amusement. The woman didn't move at all during all this, she just sat and stared at the wall ahead of her. Sam stod behind her as Dean leant closer to the woman, they watched her intently, as Harry leant back against the wall and watched all three. He was the only one who didn't jump when the woman suddenly jumped forward.

"Who the hell are you?" The woman looked around at Dean, who jumped at being addressed by a seemingly blind woman. Sam jumped also and lowered his gun. "Who's there?" Sam turned on the light, glaring at a chuckling Harry as he passed. "You tryin' to steal my stuff? They're always stealin' around here."

"No ma'am, we're maintenance. We're sorry, we thought you were sleepin'" Sam said whilst a still shaken Dean tried to calm himself down.

"Oh, nonsense. I was sleepin' with my peepers open!" The woman laughed, and Harry quietly chuckled along with her. "And fix that crucifix, would ya? I've asked four damn times already." Dean turned and saw the cross on the wall behind him. He moved over to it and moved it back to it's upright position. He and Sam exchanged an amused look, then both turned and glared at Harry.

--

The next morning Sam and Dean got out of the car, having stayed at the hospital for most of the night, Sam laughing hysterically, though they both turned to look at Harry when they stopped the car.

"You knew she wasn't the shtriga." Dean accused an amused Harry.

"Yup. I felt when she was ready to pass on. She's mortal as they come, though maybe a bit more hardy than most."

"Still, you have to admit it was amusing." Sam said as Dean went to open the door to their room. "You should have seen your face!"

"Yeah, well, laugh it up, man. We're back to square one." Dean looked u and over to where a small boy was sitting on a bench nearby. "Hang on." Dean told them and they all went over to the boy, who was crying. Dean crouched down next to him. "Hey Michael. What's wrong?"

"My brother's sick." Michael sniffled, making Harry freeze and glance at the two brothers.

"The little guy?"

"Pneumonia. He's in the hospital. It's my fault."

"Oh come on, how?" Dean asked with a snort.

"I should've made sure the window was latched. He wouldn't have gotten pneumonia if the window was latched." Dean listened sadly and then placed a hand on Michaels arm.

"Listen to me. I can promise you that this is not your fault, okay?"

"It's my job to look after him." Michael exclaimed, getting a nod of understanding from Dean. A moment later, his mother came out of the motel with her arms full with blankets and pillows.

"Michael." They all walked up to her as she put the items in the passenger seat of the car. "I want you to turn on the 'No Vacancy' sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service, so don't bother with any of the rooms."

"I'm going with you." Michael stated firmly, getting a sigh from his mother.

"Not now, Michael."

"But I gotta see Asher!"

"Hey, Michael. Hey, I know how you feel, okay? I'm a big brother, too. But you gotta go easy on your mom right not, okay?" Michael nodded and his mother shut the car door and dropped her purse.

"Dammit!"

"I got it." Sam said, picking up and handing her the purse. "Here."

"Thanks."

"Hey, listen, you're in no condition to drive. Why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital huh?"

"No, I couldn't possibly-"

"No, It's no trouble. I insist." Dean told her. She thought about it for a moment and then handed him the keys.

"Thanks." She said softly, then leant down and kissed Michael's forehead. "Be good." She got in the car and Dean shut her door and then leant closer to Sam.

"We're gonna kill this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?"

--

Later on in the Stowe Public Library, Sam was doing research on the computer then picked up the phone and rang Dean.

"Hey. How's the kid? Are you being nice to Harry? You know he likes you right?" Sam said, looking through the different sites on the internet.

"I'm at the library. I thought Harry would have told you that. I'm tryin' to find out as much as I can about this shtriga."

"Well, bad news. I started with Fort Douglas, around the time you said Dad was there." Sam told him, looking at the site.

"Same deal. Before that, there was Ogdenville. Before that, North Haverbrook and Brockway/. Every fifteen to twenty years, it hits a new town. Dean, this thing is just gtttin' started in Fitchburg. In all these other places, it goes on for months – dozens of kids, before the shtriga finally moves on. Kids just languish in comas, and then they die."

"I don't know. The earliest mention I could find was this place called Black River Falls back in the 1890s. Talk about a horror show." Sam told him, looking at a page of an old issue of _The Fitchburg Chronicle_. The picture features a group of doctors crowded around a patients bed. "Whoa."

"Hold on. I'm lookin' at a photograph right now of a bunch of doctors standing around a kid's bed. One of the doctors is Hydecker.

"And this picture was taken in 1893."

"Yeah. Yeah, absolutely sure."

--

Dean hung up the phone and turned around, infuriated and looked at Hydecker. Harry glanced over at him and sighed, getting Dean's glare aimed at him instead.

"Don't worry Your son's in good hands. I'm gonna take care of him." He told Asher's mother and then walking over to Dean. "So, what's the CDC come up with so far?"

"Well, we're still workin' on a few theories. You'll know something as soon as we do." Dean told him, trying to remain calm.

"Well, nothing's more important to me than these kids."

"Mm."

"Just let me know if I can help."

"I'll do that." Dean said, gritting his teeth. He then looked at Harry and checked his head to the door, leaving the room and people behind and then spinning to face Harry. "You knew! You knew it was Hydecker!"

"Maybe. No one asked me though. Look, I said I would help, but you and your brother don't seem to need it! I didn't tell you because you wouldn't have listened to me. You honestly don't care about my opinion so I don't give it anymore."

--

"I can't believe you never told us who the shtriga is! We could have seriously hurt someone before you told us!" Dean yelled at Harry when they got back to the motel.

"I wouldn't have let you go that far, plus your reactions to the little old lady were hilarious."

"Don't yell at him, it's not his fault. We should have thought of this before on our own. A doctor's a perfect disguise. You're trusted, you can control the whole thing." Sam stood in before Dean actually tried to kill the Reaper.

"Huh. That son of a bitch." If asaked, Harry couldn't honestly say who he thought Dean was talking about at that moment, he'd like to think it was the doctor though.

"I'm surprised you didn't draw on him right there." Sam admitted, with a glance at Harry.

"Yeah, well, first of all, I'm not gonna open fire in a freakin' paediatrics ward." Dean admitted, getting a snort of laughter from Harry.

"As opposed to killing a little old lady." Harry snickered. Dean glared at him and Sam sighed, wondering if the little Reaper actually had any self-preservation.

"I wouldn't have had to go through that if you had actually told us!" Dean yelled, making Sam sigh again and stand in between the two.

"Look, Dean, you made a good call on the whole killing the doctor in front of witnesses."

"Well the other reason I didn't was because it wouldn't have done any good because the bastards bullet-proof unless he's chowin' down on somethin'. And third, I wasn't packin', which is probably a really good thing 'cause I probably would've just burned a clip in him off of principle alone."

"Getting' wise in your old age, Dean." Sam said, both brothers choosing to ignore the snicker from Harry.

"Damn right. So now I know how we're gonna get it."

"What do you mean?"

"The shtriga – it works through siblings, right?"

"Right"

"Well, last night..."

"It went after Asher."

"So I'm thinkin' tonight, it's probably gonna come after Michael."

"Then we gotta get him outta here!" Sam exclaimed, practically grabbing his gun and running out of there, before Harry stopped him by jumping off the chest of drawers he was sitting on.

"I think the whole point Dean is trying to get across is that we use the little boy as bait."

"Okay, I wouldn't have put it like that, but yeah, he's got a point. It's the only way. If this thing disappears, it could be years before we get another chance." Dean admitted, much to Sam's growing horror.

"Michael's a kid. And I'm not gonna dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook. Harry! Agree with me here!"

"Actually, I'm with Dean."

"I should have guessed you'd side with him!"

"I so do not want to know what you meant by that, but that's beside the point. Dad did not send me here to walk away."

"Send _you_ here? He didn't send you here, he sent _us_ here!"

"This isn't about you, Sam! All right, I'm the one that screwed up! It's my fault. There's no tellin' how many kids have gotten hurt because of me." Dean yelled, rubbing the back of his head.

"What are you saying Dean? How is it your fault?" Dean stayed silent and Sam sighed and moved over to his brother.

"Dean, you've been hiding something from the get-go. Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away?" Sam asked, watching as Dean sat down on his bed. "Now, talk to me, man. Tell me what's goin' on."

"Fort Douglas, Wisconsin." Dean muttered quietly.

"What about it?"

"It was the third night in this crap room, and I was climbin' the walls, man. I needed to get some air." Dean said quietly, Sam and Harry watched in silence, knowing that Dean needed to get this off his chest. "So I left you alone in the motel and went to a nearby arcade. I stayed until it was closin' time.

"When I got back, I aw the shtriga hovering over you, feedin', suckin' the life force out of you. So I grabbed the rifle and when I cocked it, the shtriga stopped and saw me. Dad entered at that point.

"Dad missed and I could tell he blamed me for it. Anyway, after he told me off for leavin' you alone, Dad just grabbed us and booked – dropped us off as Pastor Jim's about three hours away. By the time we got back to Fort Douglas, the shtriga disappeared. It was just gone. It never resurfaced until now. Dad never spoke about it again. I didn't ask. But he, uh – he looked at me different, you know – which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order, and I didn't listen. I almost got you killed." Dean admitted softly.

"You were just a kid."

"Don't – don't. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. And he sent me here to finish it." Dean told him. Harry and Sam stood in silence for a moment before Sam spoke up.

"But using Michael? I don't know, Dean. I mean, how about one of us hides under the cover, you know, we'll be the bait." Sam suggested, tugging at loose ends.

"No, that won't work. It's gotta get close enough to feed. It'll see us. Believe me, I don't like it. But it's gotta be the kid." Dean said, standing up and walking away, tears in his eyes.

"You can use me. I can tell you when it gets too far with the kid. I can tell you exactly when to move. Lets hope that shtriga's don't see Reapers.

--

They decided to explain to Michael what they wanted to do, including using his as bait against a creature that technically, he would have been told didn't exist. It didn't quite go as they planned understandably.

"You're crazy! Just go away, or I'm calling the cop!" Michael yelled at them, holding the phone tightly in his hands.

"Hang on a second. Just listen to me. You have to believe me, okay? This thing came through your window, and it attacked you brother. Now I've seen it, I know what it looks like. 'cause it attached my brother once too." Dean explained, watching warily at Michael put the phone down.

"This thing – is it, like... it has this long, black robe?" Michael asked quietly.

"You saw it last night, didn't you?"

"I thought I was havin' a nightmare."

"I'd give anything not to tell you this, but sometimes, nightmares are real."

"So why _are_ you telling me?"

"Because we need your help."

"_My_ help?"

"We can kill it. Me and him, it's what we do." Dean told him, nodding towards Sam, much to Harry's disgruntlement. "But we can't do it without you."

"What? No!"

"Michael, listen to me. This thing hurt Asher, and it's gonna keep hurting kids unless we stop it, you understand me?" Dean asked, not liking the silence coming from Michael.

--

"Well that went crappy. Now what?" Dean asked later when they were in the motel room.

"What' you expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid." Sam told him, Dean was about to answer when he got interrupted by a knock on the door. When he answered it, Michael was standing on the other side.

"If you kill it, will Asher get better?"

Dean sighed and glanced at Sam before answering. "Honestly, we don't know."

"You said you're a big brother?"

"Yeah."

"You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?"

Dean glanced at Sam again and then answered in such a heart-felt way Harry swore it gave him toothache. "Yeah, I would." Sam looked touched, ignoring the exaggerated heaving coming from Harry.

"Me too. I'll help."

--

"Now, this camera has night vision on it, so we'll be able to see as clear as day." Harry and Sam watched from their motel room as Dean set the camera up in Michael's room. Dean then turned to face the camera. "Are we good?"

"Hair to the right." Sam told him, both watching again as Dean adjusted the camera so that it's focus was on Michael's bed. "There, there. Stop." Dean moved away from the camera and sat down on Michael's bed.

"What do I do?"

"You just stay under the covers."

"And if it shows up?"

"Well, we'll be right in the next room. We're gonna come in with guns. So, as soon as we do, you roll off this bed and you crawl under it."

"What if you shoot me?"

"Kids got his priorities in order." Harry muttered, receiving a glare for his efforts.

"We won't shoot you. We're good shots. We're not gonna fire until you're clear, okay? Have you heard a gunshot before?"

"Like, in the movies?"

"It's gonna be a lot louder than in the movies. So I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears and do no come out until we say so, you understand?" Dean waited until Michael nodded. "Micahel, you sure you wanna do this? You don't have to, it's okay. I won't be mad."

"I will be. Stupid Dean. What's he giving him a way out for."

"Shh."

"No, I'm okay. Just don't shoot me."

"Great, the kids a damned Gryffindor."

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise."

--

Later that night, Dean, Sam and Harry sat around the small monitor watching Michael's room and waiting for the shtriga to enter.

"What time is it?" Harry whined for the seventh time that night.

"Three. You sure these iron rounds are gonna work?" Sam asked, looking at the gun doubtfully.

"Consecrated iron rounds. And yeah, it's what Dad used last time."

Sam was silent for a minute, before turning to face Dean again. "Hey, Dean, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Dean asked, confused about his brothers mood.

"Well, you know... I've given you a lot of crap for always followin' Dad's orders. But I know why you do it."

"Oh, God, kill me now." Glancing at Sam, then at a surprisingly chirpy Harry, "It was a joke, don't go all trigger happy on me, Reaper." Dean stilled, noticing something something on the feed. "Wait, look." They watch as the shtriga unlocks the window and enters the bedroom. Quietly they pick up their guns, watching as, in the room, the shtriga stills by the bed for a moment.

"Now?" Sam whispers, watching the feed.

"Not yet." The shtriga moved closer to the bed and bent down over Michael, beginning to suck out his life force. Not long after, Sam and Dean burst into the room, with Harry staying in the doorway. "Hey!" The shtriga turned to face them, "Michael, down!" Michael rolled off the bed and shuffled under it. Sam and Dean shot at the shrtriga repeatedly until it fell to the ground. "Mike, you all right?"

"Yeah."

"Sit tight." Sam and Dean walked over to the shtriga and looked at the bullet holes in its robe. Dean looked at Sam, who lowers his gun.

"It's not dead." Harry told them suddenly, just as the shtriga jumped up and threw Dean into the closet across the room.

"Dean!" In an instant, the shtriga came over to Sam and pushed him to the groun, choking him. Sam tried to pick up his gun, but he couldn't reach it. The shtriga lowered its head and began to suck out Sam's life force. His face began to loose colour.

"Hey!" Harry lefted the gun from where Sam had dropped it and fired, shooting it between his eyes. "You okay Sam?" Breathing heavily, Sam gave Harry a thumbs-up. Dean stood up from his pile on the floor by the wardrobe and walked over to help Sam up, nodding his silent thanks to Harry.

Michael came out form under the bed, looking at Harry curiously. "Who are you?"

"Me? Oh, um... I'm hired help." Harry told him with a wide grin, ignoring the snort of derision from Dean.

--

"Hey, Joanna. How's Asher doin'?" Dean asked the next morning, as they loaded their car back up.

"Have you seen Michael?" Joanna asked, just as Michael appeared at the door.

"Mom, Mom!"

"Hey!" Joanna called, hugging him close to her.

"How's Ash?"

"I've got some good news. Your brother's gonna be fine."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. No one can explain it. It's a miracle." The trio exchanged a look, "They're gonna keep him in overnight for observation, but after that, he's comin' home."

"That's great." Dean said with a wide smile.

"How are all the other kids doin'?" Sam asked.

"Good. Real good. A bunch of them should be checkin' out in a few days. Dr Travis says the wards gonna be like a ghost town."

"Dr Travis? What about Dr Hydecker?"

"Oh, he wasn't in today – must've been sick or something."

"Yeah. Yeah, must have." Dean agreed absently.

"Mm." Joanna turned to Michael, "So, did anything happen while I was gone?"

"No. Same old stuff." Michael said, Harry was actually impressed with his ability to lie.

"Okay. You can go see Ash."

"Now?"

"Only if you want to." Michael smiled and looked at Dean, who nodded knowingly at him. Michael then ran to the car. "I better get going before he hotwires the car and drives himself." They all smiled and Joanna walked away. Dean closed the trunk and then looked at Sam.

"It's too bad." Sam said suddenly, making Harry and Dean look at him.

"Oh, they'll be fine."

"No, that's not what I meant. I meant Michael, He will always know there are things out there in the dark. He'll never be same, you know?" Dean and Harry nodded knowingly. "Sometimes I wish that..."

"What?"

"I wish I could have that kind of innocence." Dean and Harry turned and watched Joanna and Michael drive away, then turn back to Sam.

"If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could, too." Dean then got in the car, quickly followed by Sam and Harry.

"If we were all that innocent, think of the lives that wouldn't have been saved." Harry added, making Sam and Dean nod in agreement with him for once.

**A/N – Another chapter out. Like I said before (dunno when) this is only going as far as Season one. Season two will be another story altogether, so we're veeery close to the end of this one!! Meep! Season Two, for those that don't know, is a little darker. Harry is a little darker in it as well. **


	9. Provenance

Chapter Eight – Provenance

"He's a man-whore you do know this right?" Harry asked, watching as Dean hit on the woman behind the bar. Sam sighed and waved Dean over, only to be ignored. "Seriously, he's not gonna come to you." Sam waved Dean over again and Dean rolled his eyes, but did walk back to them, holding two beers, one of which he placed in front of Sam, taking a swig from the other.

"All right, so, I think I got somethin'" Sam told him when he sat down.

"Oh, yeah. Me, too. I think we need to take a little shore leave for just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one." Dean told them, pointing to the girl at the bar, who was soon joined by her friend.

"Told you, Manwhore." Harry muttered. Sam snorted into his beer, covering it up with a cough when Dean glared at the both of them.

"So, what are we today, Dean? Are we rock stars? Are we army rangers."

"You've actually used rock stars before?" Harry stated in shock, getting a brief, barely noticeable nod from Sam.

"Reality TV scouts looking for people with special skills." All three of them laugh before Dean continues. "I mean hey, it's not that far off, right? By the way, she's got a friend over there. I could probably hook you up, what do you think?" Dean asked, ignoring the icy glare coming from Harry.

"Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates."

"Yeah Dean—hey, what? Your own dates? No, come on, we have to find this demon, neither of you should be dating!" Harry said in a shrill voice, making Dean smirk into his beer as Sam stared at him in stunned silence.

"Right. So, er—what you got?" Dean asked after a moment of silence.

"Mark and Anne Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their home just a few days ago."

"Mmhmm." Dean stared at the girls at the bar, which caused Harry to roll his eyes and glance at Sam, who hadn't noticed his brothers inattention.

"Throats were slit, there were no prints, no murder weapons—Dean." Sam called his brother sharply having finally noticed he didn't have Dean's attention. Dean quickly looked back at Sam questioningly. "No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows were locked from the inside."

"Could just be a garden-variety murder, you know, not our department."

"No, Dad says different."

"What do you mean?"

"Look." Sam turned the journal for Dean to look, making sure that Harry could also see it. "Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York." He told them, pointing to a certain part of the notes. "First one, right here, 1912, the second one in 1945, and the third in 1970. The same M.O. as the Telescas—the throats were slit, the houses were locked from the inside. Now, so much time passed between the murders that no body checked the pattern, except for Dad. He always kept his eyes peeled fro another one."

"And now my lovely Sammy has found one." Harry said, receiving a glare for his efforts from Sam.

"All right, I'm with ya. It's worth checkin' out. We can't pick this up 'til the first though, though, right?"

"Yeah." Sam agreed, slightly confused. Harry rolled his eyes at Sam's naivety.

"Good." Dean said before standing up and walking back to the bar.

"You walked straight into that one." Harry muttered as they both watched Dean chat up the girls at the bar.

--

The next day they were waiting for Sam in the car outside of the Telesca house, Dean was sleeping in the passenger side of the car and Harry had already drew a number of things on Deans face. Sam returned to the car and honked the horn loudly as he sat down. Dean jumped as he woke up and the scowled at a laughing Harry and Sam.

"Man, that is so not cool."

"I just swept the Telesca house with the EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were—" Sam rolled his eyes and then moved on, "_out_." Dean grinned widely, and Harry chuckled in the back.

"Good times."

"Anyway, _Dali_, I took the history of the house. No hauntings, no violent crimes, nothing strange about the Telesca's themselves either."

"All right, so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then, uh—maybe it's the contents—a cursed object or somethin'."

"The house is clean." Sam told him with a shake of his head.

"Yeah, I know, you said that."

|No, I mean, it's empty. No furniture, nothin'"

"Where's all their stuff? And why did you call me Dali?"

--

"Dude, I can't believe you drew on me." Dean hissed as they walked into the auction house, his face somewhat red from all the scrubbing. Dean helped himself to some food from a tray as they passed the waiter and then looked around. "Silent auctions, estate sales—it's like a garage sale for W.A.S.P.s, if you ask me."

"Which we didn't." Harry muttered, watching as a well-dressed man walked over to the two brothers.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?"

"I'd like some champagne please." Dean said, mouth full with food and offending the man.

"Oh nice."

"He's not a waiter." Sam told him, Dean looked embarrassed and looked at the man apologetically. "I'm Sam Connors." Sam held out his hand to shake the mans, who didn't shake it. "This is my brother, Dean. We are art dealers with Connors Limited."

"You're are dealers?"

"I don't think he believes you. Maybe it's because Dean thought he was a waiter."

"That's right." Sam said, though who he was answering, Harry couldn't be sure.

"I'm Daniel Blake. This is my auction house. Now, gentlemen, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list." Daniel said, looking at them disdainfully.

Sam was about to speak when Dean interrupted him, mouth still full with food. "We're there, Chuckles. You just need to take another look." Sam looked shocked as another waiter passed with a tray full of glasses of Champagne, of which Dean took one. "Oh, finally." He then turned to Daniel, sniffed the champagne and then walked away.

"Cheers." Sam said before turning and following Dean to another part of the auction house, Harry following close behind

They continue to look around before they notice a painting form the Telesca house. They both walk over to it and begin to observe it. A moment later they hear a female voice. "A fine example of American primitive, wouldn't you say?" They all turn and see woman wearing an elegant black dress, walking down the stairs towards them. Sam looked at her in confusion over her comment before Dean hit him.

"Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses." the woman looked at the floor bashfully. "But you knew that. You just wanted to see if I did."

"Guilty. And clumsy, I apologise." Dean watched his brother talk to the woman and grabbed some more food from a passing waiter. "I'm Sarah Blake."

"I'm Sam. This is my—" Sam turned to see Dean had his mouth full with food once again. "brother, Dean."

"Dean?"

"Mm?"

"Can we get you some more mini-quiche?"

"Mm-mm, I'm good, thanks."

"So can I help you with something?" Sarah asked, looking at Sam, smiling widely, which made Harry glare at her.

"Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"

"The whole thing's pretty grisly, if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But, Dad's right about one thing. Sensationalism brings out the crowds—even the rich ones." She and Sam shared a smile. Dean grinned at the small growl Harry gave, glaring at Sarah.

"Is it possible to see the provenances?" Sam asked. Sarah was about to speak but was interrupted by her father walking up to them.

"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." Daniel said, walking over to them.

"Why not?"

"You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave."

"Well, we don't have to be told twice." Dean said chirpily.

"Apparently, you do."

"Okay, it's all right. We don't want any trouble. We'll go." Sam said, trying to pacify Daniel. Dean walked away and after sharing a sad look with Sarah, Sam followed him. Harry glared at Sarah before running after Sam and Dean.

--

They went to a local motel, grabbing their bags from the car and walking to their motel room.

"Grant Wood? Grandma Moses? What?" Dean asked as he opened the motel room door.

"Art history course. It's good for meetin' girls."

"It's like I don't even know you." Dean said, shaking his head and walking into the motel room. Harry followed quickly after him and made a beeline for the table, sitting on it and smiling widely.

"Good god, it's like the seventies threw up on this room." Harry stated, watching as the brothers looked around them and shrugged, completely unfazed by the rooms disco-patterned wallpaper and chrome furniture.

"Huh." They moved to the beds and began to unpack their things.

"What was it, the providence?"

"Provenance." Sam corrected, Dean mouthed the word trying to get the right pronunciation. "It's a certificate of origin, like a biography, you know? We can use 'em to check the history of the pieces, see if anything's got a freaky past."

" we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but uh, Sarah?" Dean smirked as Harry growled once again, and glared at the table he was sitting on.

"Yeah. Maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin."

"Not me." Harry's growling got louder. Sam glanced at him in concern before turning back to Dean.

"Oh, no, no, no, no. Pickups are your thing, Dean."

"It wasn't my butt she was checkin' out."

"Bitch." Harry muttered, getting an amused look from Dean.

"In other words, you want me to use her to get information."

"Sometimes, you gotta take one for the team." Dean held out his mobile for Sam to take. "Call her."

--

Sam refused to allow Harry to follow him to the restaurant, making him stay at the motel with a very amused Dean.

"Dude, it would never work for you both. For one, you're invisible to everyone but us." Dean said, watching Harry hug his knees to his body.

"You do know he thinks its you I'm after right?" Harry muttered, making Dean choke out a laugh.

"My little brother is insane." Dean said with a laugh.

"I can't believe you encouraged him!"

"What else was I gonna do? Tell him, 'no Sam, waste your life with some Reaper only we can see.'?"

"I can make other people see me!"

"What else can you give him? He's not even gay!"

"How would you know? He might like me!"

"Whatever dude. I'm going out to get some beer." Dean said, standing up and walking out of the room. Harry watched him go and the huffed to himself.

--

It was a while later when Dean walked back into the motel room, a couple of bottles of beer in his hands.

"You took your time."

"I did indeed. Didn't want to be around you for too long with your moping and sulking. Sam not back yet?"

"No." Harry huffed.

"Dude, let him go." Dean said, grabbing his knife and starting to sharpen it. Not long after Dean had started to sharpen his knife Sam walked in with a large grin on his face.

"How did it go?" Dean asked, looking up from his knife. Sam held out some papers and then sat down on his bed, opening his laptop. "So, she just handed the providences over to you?" Dean asked when Sam didn't look like he was going to say anything else.

"Provenances." Sam corrected, annoyed.

"Pro—provenances?"

"Yes. I went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers."

"And?"

"And nothing, that's it. I left."

"You didn't have to con her or so any special favours or anything?"

"Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter?" Sam asked. Dean laughed as Harry glared at him.

"You know, when this whole thing is done, we could stick around for a little bit." Dean told him.

"Why?"

"So you can take her out again. It's obvious you're innot her, even I can see that. Harry can as well, right Harry?"

"Oh shut up."

"See?"

"Hey, all right, I think I got somethin' here." Dean and Harry got up and walked over to look at the research Sam had pulled up. Sam handed Dean the provenances.

"Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family painted in 1910."

"Now, compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal." Dean went back to his bed and sat down, reading the names in the journal.

"First purchased in 1912 to Peter Simms." Sam pointed to a spot on the journal, which Dean read. "Peter Simms murdered in 1912." He looked at the papers and then at the journal. "Same thing in 1945. Huh. Same thing in 1970."

"Then it was stored until it was donated to a charity auction last month, where the Telesca's bought it. SO, what do you think it's haunted or cursed?"

"Either way, it's toast."

"So what now?"

"Now we need to go torch the sucker." Dean said, standing up.

--

Ugly ass thing. If you ask me, we're doin' the art world a favour." Dean said once they had got the portrait out of the auction house, before throwing a match on it and lighting it.

"For once Dean, I agree with you." Harry said, watching as the portrait went up in flames.

--

The next morning Dean came out of the bathroom, frantic and running over to his bed. "We've got a problem, I can't find my wallet."

"How is that my problem?" Sam asked, Harry snickered as they both watched a franticly worried Dean.

"'Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night."

"You're kidding right?"

"Yeah, it's got my prints, my ID—well, my fake ID anyway. We've gotta get it before somebody else finds it, come on." Dean said, leaving the motel room with Sam and Harry still inside.

At the auction room, Sam and Dean looked around the room, searching for the wallet. "How do you lose your wallet Dean?"

"Hey guys." Sarah said, walking over to them. Sam put a piece of art down and tried to look nonchalant.

"Sarah! Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh, we—we're leaving town and you know, we came to say goodbye."

"Oh what are you talkin' about Sam? We're stickin' around for at least another day or two." Dean said, confusing the other three, that looked at him in confusion. "Oh, Sam, by the way, I wanted to give you that twenty bucks I owe you." Dean took out his wallet from his back pocket. Sam looked at Dean, annoyed and frustrated, whilst Harry looked somewhat disappointed. "I'm always forgettin'. There ya go." Sam, still annoyed by Dean's trick, take the money. "Well, I'll leave you two crazy kids alone. I gotta go do something—Somewhere." Dean said, Sarah winked at him and Dean left them alone, with Harry glaring at Sarah.

"So—" Sarah started nervously, looking around her. Sam ignored the scoffing from Harry.

"I had a good time last night."

"Yeah. Yeah, I did too."

"Pfft."

"Maybe we should do it again sometime."

"Are you kidding me? Sam, don't fall for it."

"You know, I'd love to. I really would, but Dean—he was just screwin' around. We really are takin' off today."

"Er—Sam." Harry tapped Sam's shoulder, trying to get his attention, only to get ignored.

"Oh. Well, that's too bad."

"Oh my God!" Sam suddenly exclaimed, finally noticing the same painting they torched the night before being carried past him.

"What?"

"Uh—That painting—looks so good." Sam stumbled, ignoring the snort of laughter from Harry.

"If you can call that monstrosity good, then, yeah, I guess."

"So what do you know about that painting?"

"Not much, just that it creeps me out. We sold it to the Telescas at a charity auction the night they were murdered."

"Yeah, and now, you're just gonna sell it again?"

"As much as my dad wants to, no. I won't let him. I thin it's be in bad taste."

"Good. Yeah, you know what? Don't, don't, make sure you don't, okay?"

"Why? Don't tell me you're interested in that."

"No, no, God, no, not buying it no. You know what? I gotta go, I've gotta take care of something. But I will call you back I will call you. I'll see you later."

"Wait, so, you're not leaving tonight?"

"Wow, she's quick of the up-take."

"No, I guess not. See ya." Sam walked off and left the auction house, they both walked over to the car and Sam leant on it. "Go fetch Dean, tell him we need to talk."

"Sure thing. Be right back."

--

"I don't understand, Dean, we burned the damn thing." Sam said once Dean and Harry had returned and they got in the car

"Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious. All right, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?"

"Okay, all right, well, um—in almost all the lore about haunted paintings, it's always the painting's subject that haunts them."

"Yeah? All right, so we need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family in that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?"

--

"You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?" The librarian in the local library asked, speaking very quickly.

"Wow, he doesn't even pause to breath."

'Yeah, that's right."

"I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, uh, are you boys crime buffs?"

"Kind of. Why do you ask?" Dean asked.

"Well—" He held up a page from an old newspaper. The headline read, 'Father slaughters family, kills self."

"Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right."

"The whole family was killed?"

"It seems this Isaiah—he slits his kids throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade—used a straight razor."

"Why'd he do it?"

"Well, let's look." The librarian began to read the article. "Uh, 'people who knew him described Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament and controlled his family with an iron fist." Wife, two sons, adopted daughter—yeah, yeah—there were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave, which, of course, you know, in that day and age….so, instead, Old Man Isaiah—well, he gave them all a shave." The librarian made a shaving gesture with his hands and then laughed, Dean chuckled but Harry and Sam both remained serious.

"Does it say what happened to the bodies?"

"It just says they were all cremated." The three exchanged an annoyed look.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here somewhere." He opened the book to a certain page. "Right. Here it is." The picture in the book is the same from the painting, except in the books photo, Isaiah is looking straight ahead. In the painting he was looking down at his daughter. Sam noticed this.

"Hey, could we get a copy of this, please?"

"Sure."

--

Back at the motel room they all sat around the table, talking about the Merchant family.

"I'm telling you man, I'm sure of it. Painting at the auction house, Dad is lookin' down. Painting here, Dad's lookin' out. The painting has changed Dean."

"He's right you know. I saw it too. Now, maybe in my previous life the paintings moved, but Muggle ones don't.

"Muggle?"

"Never mind.

"All right, so, you think Daddt Dearest is trapped in the painting? He's handin' out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?"

"Yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?"

"All right, well, if Isaiah's position changed, maybe some other things in the painting changed as well. It could give us some clues."

"What, like a _DaVinci Code_ deal?"

"I don't know, I'm still waitin' for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting. Which is a good thing because you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend." Dean stood up and went to lie down on his bed.

"Dude, enough already."

"What?"

"'What?' Ever since we got here, you've been tryin' to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back of, all right."

"Well, you like her, don't you?" Sam said nothing, which made Harry twitch. "All right, you like her, she likes you, you're both consenting adults—"

"What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave."

"Well, I'm not talkin' about marriage, Sam."

"You know what, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?"

"Because then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time." Sam scoffed as Dean sat up on his bed, "You know, seriously, Sam, this isn't about just hookin' up, okay? I mean, I think this Sarah girl could be good for you. And I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure that this is about Jessica, right? Now, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but….I would think that she would want you to be happy. God forbid, have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?" Dean said, Harry watched Sam closely, worried that Sam seemed very close to tears.

"Yeah, I know she would." Sam sighed, "Yeah you're right. Part of this _is_ about Jessica. But nor the main part."

"What's it about?" Dean asked, Sam said nothing. "Yeah, all right." Dean leant back on the bed, "well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so—" Sam sighed and nodded. He picked up the phone and dialed her number.

"Sarah, hey. It's Sam. (...) Hey, hi. Good, Good, yeah, um, what about you? (...) Yeah good, good, really good."

"Smooth." Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"So, listen, me and my brother were thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I think maybe we _are_ interested in buying it. (...)What?" (...) Who'd you sell it to? (...) Sarah, I need an address right now."

"She sold it?" Dean asked.

"Oh she's a keeper alright. Ditz." Harry muttered ignoring the glare Sam sent his way.

--

They pulled up at the house, more like mansion, of the buyer and got out their car, noticing that Sarah was standing there by her own car.

"Sam, what's happening?"

"I told you, you shouldn't have come." Sam said, the four of them ran up the front steps.

"Hello? Anybody home?"

"You said Evelyn might be in danger. What kind of danger?"

"I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it." Dean told them. He knelt down and began to pick the lock on the front door. Sarah walked over to Sam, who was unsuccessfully trying to open the windows.

"What are you guys, burglars?"

"I wish it was that simple." Sam said just as Dean got the front door open. "Look, you really should wait in the car, it's for your own good."

"The hell I will, Evelyn's a friend." Sarah said indignantly, following them all inside.

The four of them walked into the living room silently, looking around them. "Evelyn?" Sarah quietly called, practically tiptoeing through the living room.

"Evelyn?" Dean called, seeing Evelyn seated in her chair and moved cautiously towards her. The painting over her fireplace had resumed its usual position. Isaiah was looking down at his daughter.

"Evelyn? Evelyn?" They moved closer to the chair, "Its Sarah Blake. Are you all right?" She put her hand on Evelyn's shoulder

"Sarah don't. Sarah!" Sam called watching in horror as Evelyn's head tilted back, revealing her slashed throat. Sarah screamed and looked at the portrait, where Isaiah was looking straight ahead.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Sam took her out of the room to calm her down whilst Dean and Harry stayed with the body.

"You know she was dead." Dean accused.

"Yep. She couldn't exactly listen to me now could she?"

--

Back at the motel Dean was sitting at the laptop whiles Sam was pacing and Harry was back in his usual place on top of the table. There was a knock at the door and Sam went to answer it, moving out of the way to let Sarah enter.

"Hey, you all right?"

"No actually. I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's alone and found her like that."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I'm about to call 'em right back if you don't tell me what the hell is going on. Who's killing these people?" Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

"What."

"What?"

"It's not who, it's what is killing these people." Sarah shook her head, obviously confused. "Sarah, you saw that painting move."

"No. No, I was seeing things. It's impossible."

"Oh she's not very bright is she?" Harry drawled, doing a passable impression of one Draco Malfoy.

"Yeah, well, welcome to our world." Dean said, privately agreeing with Harry, though refusing to say anything else.

"Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted."

"You're joking?" Tears began to form in her eyes and Sam stayed silent. "You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with."

"Sarah think about it—Evelyn, the Telesca's. They both had the painting and there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die, and we're just tryin' to stop it. And that's the truth."

"Sarah sighed and looked around her. "Well, then I guess you better show me. I'm coming with you."

"What? No. Sarah, no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous, and—" Sam stopped and Dean looked on in understanding, "—I don't want you to get hurt."

"Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this—well, me and my dad sold that painting, we might have got these people killed. I'm not saying I'm not scared, 'cause I am scared as hell, but I'm not gonna run and hide either." She walked to the door and then tunred back to face the brothers. "So, are we going to or what?"

They all watched her leave, even Harry was a tiny bit impressed, not that he would have admitted it to anyone.

"Sam?" Sam turned back and looked at Dean, "Marry that girl."

"Don't encourage him!" Harry hissed as he watched Sam leave after the little ditz that though she could steal Sam away from him.

""Hey! You have freaky thoughts concerning my brother, that's fine by me, but don't expect me to actually back you on them. If Sam wants to chase after another girl, then I'm all for it! I'm sorry to say it though, but you're not human. you're not even truly alive! What can you give him?" Dean asked, smiling a little, though the smile soon faded away when he saw the devastated look on Harry's face. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"No, you did. I understand. Really I do. Do you know how old I am supposed to be?"Harry asked randomly.

"Nope, a hundred or two?"

"No. I'm twenty-five, I'll be twenty-six next month. You know what is really sad? I died when I was eighteen saving an ungrateful world and I had never even had a chance to do more than kiss a person, and that was with Hank. Death. Never knew what it was like to actually be in a relationship. To be loved by someone in something other than a familial way. But I suppose I will never find out.

"Hank said that in order for me to either move on or become—humanish again, I would need to learn how to feel again. Sam helped me towards that, but you're right. I couldn't drag him down with me. I have to go now, but if you should ever find yourself in danger that you won't be able to get yourself out of, then I will be there for you. You never need worry about Sam again. He will be safe until it is his time. Thank you for being one of the only people who was ever honest with me." Harry said with a sad smile. Dean opened his mouth to say something to him, to apologise or something. Anything to make the feeling of guilt go away, but Harry turned to look at Sam's back once more and then disappeared.

--

Harry appeared in one of the motel rooms that he had stayed in with the two brothers. He had no idea where he was, no idea what he was going to do now.

"Hank!" Hary yelled, looking to the ceiling.

"You called?" Hank asked, walking through the front door and looking at Harry in concern. "What's happened? Why are you back here? Where are the Winchesters?"

"I had to leave them. I couldn't drag Sam down with me."

"Oh, my little Reaper. " Hank said softly, dragging Harry into a hug. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to do my job. I'm going to Reap some souls. Hank, I'm going to go back to Britain for a while. Keep an eye on Sam for me, will you? You know where to find me if anything happens." Harry kissed Hank on the cheek and then moved out of the hug. Sending a sad smile to Hank, Harry disappeared and left America behind.

**A/N- Okay, so how many of you actually want to kill me? For those that want to know, it was the little girl in the portrait that was doing the killin'. As for Harry, those who watch Supernatural will probably know when I am going to bring Harry back in the Winchester's lives. Don't worry, I will be! I won't finish it on this note. You'll just have to wait a wee while before I start Season Two... Lol... **

**Please review and try not to threaten me too harshly!! Lol!! Hope you enjoyed!!! **


	10. AN

Okay, so for those who don't know, the sequel to this is already up, it's called For Whom The Bell Tolls, so go on, read it! Please, and tell me what you think! Cheers!!


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